


A Tale of Two Destinies

by jessicathebestica



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Gen, I just love Merlin, Romance, first story I have actually completed!, touching it up and creating more fictional elements to ward off historical inaccuracies, wrote on fanfic a while back
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicathebestica/pseuds/jessicathebestica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Gwen thought their lives were complicated enough, flirting with the idea of an impossible relationship. But Gwen is about to discover a shocking royal secret that requires her to leave Camelot...possibly for good. Will their destinies ever intertwine again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Portrait of a Young Warrior as a Servant

Gwen was alone. The lady she served, Morgana, was currently dining with the two Pendragons that have treated her like family since her father's death. Gwen reached into her basket for the fresh linens to be placed on her lady's bed, taking in her quiet and empty surroundings. 

But Gwen was not concerned about the physical element of being alone. She knew Lady Morgana would eventually have to retire to her room, giving Gwen someone to talk to while she brushed the ward's hair before going to bed. No, there was a completely different solitude that struck Gwen much deeper, and the more she thought about it the more she wished to curl into a ball and perish into nothingness.

It was a very dark thought, and normally Gwen would not allow herself to dwell on such things. But how could she not? Gwen was a servant who lived in a small dwelling by herself, the only family she knew having died by the hand of the King's men. Her father was killed under the order of Uther Pendragon after being accused of dealing with a known sorcerer. Gwen felt deep in her heart that her father was innocent, and as much as she cared about her beloved Camelot and its people, she would never forgive Uther for what he had done.

Her entire family was gone.

Well, all but….no she wouldn't dare think of it. Even the possibility of letting his name breathe across her small, plump lips was like an omen unveiling an unknown past she was not prepared to discover. It was best to erase him from her memory and anyone else that might have known him.

Her hands were shaking as she tried unsteadily to smooth out the wrinkles in Lady Morgana's sheets. The stillness of her surroundings was increasingly uncomfortable, her sad and lonely thoughts only growing darker by the minute. She had to get out. She honestly didn't care who she might find, but the first person she would bump into would have to put up with at least five minutes conversation with her. It was the only way to bring her back down to reality.

Gwen exited her lady's chambers, confident in the work she had already done and began wondering the halls of the castle. The sun had already vanished, leaving no warmth in its wake for her to bask in. Looking out the windows, Gwen could only see a handful of stars in the midst of the heavily clouded night sky.

Another servant was now in view, walking in the opposite direction. He gave Gwen a polite nod and a crooked smile. No, not him, she thought, turning her body closer to the window as if enraptured by the outdoor scene. So maybe she would not talk to just anyone. He, after all, smelled like farm animals and made a weird hissing noise when he said the letter 's'.

There had to be somebody else around who could strike up a pleasant discussion. And Gwen knew there was one person in particular she would revel in conversing with.

As if on cue, Arthur Pendragon's footsteps were heard rounding the nearby corner. If he was walking any faster he might have overlooked Gwen's position by the window. It seemed, however, impossible for Arthur to ignore her presence.

"Guinevere," he greeted her warmly, and dare she believe, seductively. "Out wandering the halls, l I see."

Gwen gave a small smile and bowed her head low. "I suppose you could call it that, sire. I simply grew weary of being alone while Lady Morgana dined with yourself and the King. I presume she is ready to retire now?"

"Yes. She said as much a few moments ago. But I'm sure she can manage a short while without you." Arthur added the last part very quickly, as if pleading for Gwen not to go. "That is, we can talk for a while if that is what you'd like."

Her smile grew wider as a light blush crept onto her cheeks. Gwen often found it utterly difficult to look the future King of Camelot in the eyes. They were from two separate worlds, yet her heart fluttered madly every time she saw him. It was like an illness for which there was no remedy. Not that she actively sought out a cure.

She could hardly believe it herself, but Arthur had made it known on more than one occasion that he had felt something for her as well. Thinking of those stolen moments made her blushing cheeks even warmer.

Arthur's doting eyes instantly changed to express concern. "Are you well, Guinevere? You look as if you're overheating." Though not at all a learned physician, Arthur took it upon himself to check Gwen's condition by placing a large, masculine hand against her cheek.

She immediately retreated from his touch. Not because it pained her or felt bad in any way. In truth, quite the opposite. But she did remember that they were in a hallway of the castle that could at any moment be busy with passing knights, servants, or worst of all, his father.

"Forgive me, sire, but I do not wish to keep Lady Morgana waiting any longer." Arthur took a step forward and tried to say something to keep her there, even for a moment longer. But it was too late. She had left before he could get a chance to persuade her otherwise.

Arthur sighed, feeling the weight of his full heart. "That woman puzzles me exceedingly," he vocalized, staring down the now empty corridor.

"And which woman might that be?"

Arthur turned around to face his humiliation. Of course it was Merlin. Who else would have the gall to mock him about his feelings? Arthur tried to ignore his question by taking charge of his commanding role as crowned Prince. "Don't you have something you could be doing?"

Merlin shrugged his shoulders. "Not really."

"What about my armor?" Arthur asked indignantly.

"Polished it this morning. As well as your boots."

Merlin was still a servant, Arthur constantly reminded himself, though their camaraderie seemed to subtly blossom with every passing adventure. Arthur could, if he wanted to, find some chore for Merlin to occupy himself with so that he wouldn't stand here all smug and attempt to pry into Arthur's love life. "Well, I'm sure my bed needs…"

"Washed the linens with Gwen after lunch." Merlin had Arthur right where he wanted him, noticing the Prince deeply inhale at the aforementioned women's name. "Gwen really is a lovely woman. Perhaps she's the greatest puzzle of all. Wouldn't you say, Arthur?"

Arthur glared malevolently as if already considering sentencing Merlin to death. But he would never do that, no matter how angry his manservant made him. "If you wish to poke fun at another's expense, that is fine by me. But I can assure you that you will not find it funny when my knights return form training tomorrow and drop all of their equipment at your feet. By the looks of those ominous clouds up above, I'd say there's a fair chance the grounds will be very wet by morning."

Merlin's smile vanished. He could already visualize the thick clumps of mud stuck to the knights' breastplates and shields. It was moments like these when he wished talking back to the heir of Camelot did not come so easily to him. He needed real friends that weren't able to make him do their bidding. Merlin let his shoulders slump down as if his whole body was fatigued from anticipation. "Oh, well. Thus is destiny, I suppose," he mumbled to himself.

"What was that?" Arthur asked with a pointed look.

"I…I said I can't wait to take care of those."

Arthur eyed him suspiciously with his arms folded across his broad chest. "Good. Now go. You'll need to be fully rested for tomorrow's festivities."

Arthur and Merlin both walked toward their respective rooms, unbeknownst to either of them that at that same instant, a strange rider from the south had entered Camelot's walls seeking shelter and a physician to tend to his fatal wound. 

"Anyway, I cannot understand how Arthur fancies himself to be smarter than me. It's preposterous. After all, I spent my youth learning from the ancient texts while he was simply tested on the proper way to hold a javelin. Arrogant, snide prince." Morgana rambled as she changed into her dressing gown, unaware that this discussion was not helping Gwen put her improper thoughts of the man in question aside. His presence was like a leech that stuck to her, no matter where he actually was.

"I'm sure he meant no dishonor, milady," was Gwen's short reply.

Morgana huffed loudly, coming out from behind her partition and sitting in front of the mirror. "Yes, well you weren't there when he claimed to know the history of the whole Bowmarian Dynasty better that I do. Does he take pleasure in belittling me in front of anyone that is willing to listen?"

"It is no secret that you two quarrel like actual siblings," Gwen said, brushing Morgana's long, dark locks in the process. "But I do not think he said those things to discredit you. More likely, Arthur might have been trying to impress his father. He loves that man dearly and works so hard to make him proud. Just imagine knowing one day that you were to be King and your own father scrutinized every action you made as if already believing you were not worthy of the task."

Morgana was starting to feel sorry for the young Pendragon. She hated to admit it, but unlike Uther, Arthur was a good man and had the potential to be a just and fair King. However, Morgana seemed suddenly more interested in a different aspect of Gwen's explanation.

She turned in her chair and faced the sweet, naïve serving girl who had been her companion these last few years. The expression on Morgana's face was like that of a wolf cornering its prey. "And how is it that you seem to know all of this about Arthur? Do the pair of you talk often, perhaps?"

Gwen almost dropped the brush in her hand. She started to tremble. Her words were stuck in her throat and she knew the developing hue on her face was already giving her away. "I cannot understand why you would think…I mean, I just have observed him at times and there seems to be a pattern when he is around the King."

Morgana shook her head. "Just admit it, Gwen. You like him."

"I…I admit that I have the deepest respect for him as our Prince. And I know he will make a great King someday." This was not helping. Her mind searched for a topic, any topic, just as long as they could stop talking about Arthur. "Did you retrieve your sleeping draft from Gaius today? I was just curious if your nightmares were still bothering you."

"No, and I may not need it anymore. I've slept remarkably well the last few days actually." But Morgana wasn't done with their previous subject. "I see him looking at you all the time."

"Really?" Gwen slipped. Morgana's eyes grew wide and her mischievous smile reappeared. "I mean…that is, what I meant to say was…who looks at me?"

"You know perfectly well who I'm talking about," Morgan replied greedily. She needed indulgence from her friend; some intriguing gossip to pass the time away. "Why can't you just be honest with me, Gwen? It's not as if I will be upset by your proclamation. In fact, I think the two of you are rather cute together."

Gwen was ready to protest again, but the walls around her started to crumble and she unexpectedly found it quite easy to lay down her troubles to the lovely lady. "How am I supposed to be honest with you when I can't even be honest with myself? I've tried, in vain, to deny my feelings for Arthur, and though I'm slowly coming to terms with the fact that they will never go away, it does not mean I can act on them. He is the crowned Prince of Camelot. I am only a serving girl to the King's Ward. And I shall never be anything more."

Morgana felt her own heart breaking at this confession. She grasped Gwen's hands tightly in her own and looked imploringly into her eyes. "Don't you ever believe that, Gwen. I've always thought of you as one of my dearest friends, and never just a servant. I know that Arthur does not feel that way either. You mean so much more to him."

Gwen felt white hot tears sting her eyes. "And even if that were so, if Arthur were to one day tell me how he feels, what then? I cannot become the future Queen. Uther would never stand for it. He would much sooner execute us both."

There was a painful silence. Morgana felt dreadful because she could not give Gwen comforting words on this subject. So she chose not to say anything at all. It was true that Uther Pendragon was a fierce King who refused to let any person bend his laws. Even his own son. She had witnessed, on my occasions, Uther's unforgiving cruelty being enacted on the poor and the weak. She could not be sure she really loved or respected him anymore.

"It is a silly thought anyway," Gwen finally said. Her tear-stained cheeks looked raw and puffy. She wiped at them carelessly with the back of her hand. "Arthur could never be with me, because he will never defy his father."

Urgent rapping on Morgana's door startled the two young girls. Unable to compose herself in time, Gwen was grateful when the Lady Morgana went to answer it herself.

"Yes. What is it, Merlin?" was Morgana's reply.

Merlin's voice was quiet, most of the sound blocked by the door, so it only came out in muffled fragments. Gwen thought she heard her name mentioned though.

Morgana confirmed Gwen's suspicions. "Merlin wishes to speak with you." She opened the door wider for Merlin to enter.

He rushed in, searching directly for his friend. "Hi, Gwen. I'm really sorry to bother you at this late hour--have you been crying?"

Gwen's fingertips tried vigorously to remove any traces of tears from her eyelashes. "It's nothing really. We were just...talking. What did you want to speak to me about?" she asked, attempting to force a smile on her face.

Merlin looked down awkwardly, shuffling his feet. "I don't know how to say this, Gwen, because I'm not even sure if it's true or not but the guards found a man on horseback practically bleeding to death and…"

Both women expressed their shock. "Oh, that's awful. Who is he? Is he going to be alright?" Morgana curiously inquired.

"Gaius is tending to him now." Merlin turned back to Gwen. She felt uncomfortable under his gaze. "He's a rider from the south that no one has claimed to have seen before. The strange thing is he…he said…"

Gwen was impatient. "Spit it out, Merlin."

"He believes you're his sister, Gwen."


	2. To Kill a Messenger

Gwen's feet felt as heavy as lead blocks as she sprinted down the halls toward the frequently-visited physician's quarters. The castle walls whizzed by her in a blur of gray, the ensconced torches mimicking a dancing fire.

Gaius' door came into view. Gwen was almost afraid of what she would find behind it, but that vanished soon enough when the feeling of hope began to course through her veins. She gently pushed the door open, keeping her anxiety at bay, and managed to creep into the room as quiet as a mouse, in case he was sleeping.

Fortunately, he was not, and what a sight he was.

His face was thin, eyes smaller and sinking deep into his skull. Gwen observed that he was paler too, but she attributed that to his injury. "Is it really you?" Her voice was gentle, but held the desperation of a neglected child. "Am I not imagining this?"

As soon as he saw her, his face softened. He even allowed himself to smile through all of the pain he was trying to suppress. "My sister. My Guinevere."

Gwen remained in her child-like state, throwing all of her knowledge on appropriate etiquette aside and rushing over to his cot. Her cheeks were fresh with tears, only this time they were tears of joy. It was like waking from a long, nightmarish sleep.

"I never thought I would see you again, Elyan," Gwen choked out, searching for his hand and entwining her fingers with his. "I'd all but lost hope."

Gwen did not even acknowledge Gaius' presence in the room until he started to redress the wound on her brother's abdomen. The cloth currently placed there had already been soaked through with blood. Her mind filled with dread, terrified that her reunion with her brother might be short-lived.

"Why would…how did this happen? Gaius, will he get better?" Her eyes silently pleaded with the physician to do whatever was necessary to keep Elyan alive.

"The treatments I gave him should seal up the gash before daybreak. But, I'm afraid he has already lost a lot of blood. He will need plenty of rest."

Satisfied with this response, Gwen returned to her previous question, looking once more at her brother. "How were you injured? Did someone fight you?"

Elyan winced as Gauis tightened the strip of cloth against his skin. "They must have discovered I was coming here to find you. I was ambushed in the Forests of Balor, but I managed to escape after one of their swords pierced my side. Thankfully, my horse is much faster than theirs."

A whirlwind of questions then flooded her mind. "You keep saying they. Who is 'they'? Who were these awful men who tried to kill you?"

"Agh!" came Elyan's tumultuous cry as he clutched his side.

Gaius quickly gave him a potion to help ease the pain. "You'll have time to answer questions later, young man. Do not overexert yourself too soon."

The worry in Gwen's heart crept forth again. "I will stay by your side, Elyan, until we see this through. I cannot lose you again." She smiled down at him and kissed the hand that she instinctively clutched like a lifeline.

With what little strength remained, Elyan brought his other hand up to stroke the side of Gwen's face. "You are more beautiful than I remembered."

She blushed slightly, her modesty always taking precedence. "I have grown since we saw each other last. It has been more than four years." Gwen felt as if she could sit in that very spot on the floor and talk to her brother for an eternity. She wanted to leave nothing out in explaining what happened in their lives during their time apart.

"Guinevere." Gaius broke Gwen's concentration. "I wonder if I might have a word with you for a moment." He motioned for her to follow him, away from Elyan's grasp.

She did so willingly, only because she was concerned with the information Gaius might have for her. Would he say that it is, in fact, fatal? Would this be the last moment she would spend with the only family she had left?

"What is it, Gaius? Tell me, and do not withhold any details to spare my feelings."

He rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. "In my professional opinion, I want you to know that I have great confidence that your brother's health will return." She allowed herself to relax. "However, if he does not start resting immediately, it could slow the process or possibly stop it all together."

"I understand," Gwen said, nodding and ready to take control of the situation. "I will not say another word. I'll just sit here quietly."

Gaius' meaning failed to completely reach Gwen's comprehension. "I'm afraid that being so near to him might agitate and excite his condition too much. He is as happy to see you as you are him, and if you stay here he will not be able to fall asleep."

"But, Gaius, you cannot possibly think that I would leave my brother…."

"Please, Gwen," Gaius asked kindly, yet gravely. "For Elyan's sake."

She turned back to her brother. He quickly caught her gaze and she could see his eyes twinkling and filled with wonder. She returned to him, and bent down to kiss him sweetly on the temple. "Go to sleep, my dear brother. I will be back in the morning and by then your condition better have improved," she scolded light-heartedly.

He wanted to argue against this decision. He wanted her to stay at his side like she promised. But Gwen would not be swayed. She told Gaius when she would arrive tomorrow before forcing herself to leave the room.

Now separated by a thin barrier, Gwen realized that she already missed him. Merlin was, as she presumed, just outside of the door. At least it was kind of him to give her some privacy with her brother.

"You're not staying with him tonight?" he asked.

"No. He needs time to heal. You can go back in if you like. I suddenly find myself exhausted from this evening's turn of events. A good night's sleep sounds perfectly marvelous." She began walking down the hall, almost as if she was in a trance. Her only thoughts were of Elyan. A few guards passed her on her route but she couldn't even see them. She was somewhere else entirely, her own little world.

A figure stood several feet in front of Gwen and even hazarded approaching her, but her eyes were so glazed over that she couldn't quite make out who it was. "What's the matter, Guinevere?"

She recognized that voice though. Gwen blinked a few times, willing herself to look upon the face that made her heart swell. The moment he did come into focus though, allowing Gwen to see the concern etched on his beautiful features, everything inside of her wanted to shut down. Her walls crumbled and the floodgates opened. She worried about how he would respond to her emotional display, however there was no hesitation in what Arthur did next. Gwen felt a serene warmth as Arthur's body envelope her.

Seconds was all it took. When Arthur wrapped his hulking arms around her shoulders, Gwen spent only seconds pondering why before she gave into the power and strength he was providing her. It felt so incredibly good to be in his arms. She felt safe and unburdened. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for both of them to be doing.

Gwen wanted him to hold her close forever, but she knew moments as wonderful as this could never last. Her breathing found a calm rhythm, and her hand which clung onto his shoulder was ready to slacken its grip and separate from the temporary relief he was giving her.

As she came back to the realm of reality, Gwen was startlingly aware that Arthur's chest was almost certainly exposed. She could feel the heat of his skin radiating against her palm...and it tingled.

If it was any other moment but this, she would have jumped back and made some excuse to leave so she could avoid the embarrassment. But he had been so kind that she did not want Arthur to think he wasn't wanted.

Instead, Gwen slowly tilted her head up to peer into his face. They were so close she could feel his breath against her own skin. It would not take much effort for their lips to touch. But she dared not try.

"Why are you not wearing a tunic?" It was the first thing she could think to say to him.

"I was sleeping when I heard a disruption in the hall. I grabbed my robe and came out to discover the source." Arthur involuntarily stroked her hair. "Why have you been crying?"

Gwen closed her eyes, letting the tension flow through the guided touch of his fingertips. "I...I don't know what came over me. So much has happened, Arthur, and I don't think I've given myself time to process it yet. I'm not even sure what this all means."

"Just start with what you know."

As much as it would anguish them both, Gwen needed to create some distance between herself and Arthur. They were still inside the castle walls, after all, capable of being discovered. He instantly felt the absence of the petite hand that was against his bare chest.

"Well, you probably do not know this, but I have a brother. His name is Elyan and he is a year younger than me."

Arthur was admittedly confused. "Why have you never spoken of him before?"

"That is a long story within itself," she said in a conflicted tone. "I've avoided speaking of him ever since the day he left four years ago. I was sure I would only hear of him again if he wound up dead somewhere and I tried not to dwell on that very real possibility. But he's back now, Arthur. I thought my eyes were deceiving me at first, but it's true. He rode into Camelot with a severe stab wound in his side and Gaius is taking care of him as we speak."

"Has Gaius confirmed he will recover?"

Gwen's heart warmed at his concerned words for her brother. "As long as he rests he should heal well."

There was a stretch of time where neither party said anything. He looked down at her like a man in love, and she felt comfort and bliss in sharing this happy news with the person she cared for most. She wanted to run into his arms again, to feel his strong hands stroke her back tenderly.

"And you are okay?" Arthur finally asked. "Your face looked so conflicted and distraught. I was afraid you might collapse right before me."

Gwen was mortified when she remembered how dramatically she behaved. "Oh, yes. I am sorry about that. I was just feeling very overwhelmed. I think I am still. I did not mean to worry you."

He smiled endearingly. "You have nothing to apologize for, Guinevere. I think my worrying about you is something neither of us can avoid, anyway."

She responded with a grateful nod, fighting every urge to look into his eyes and choosing a fixed spot on the castle wall instead.

"It is late," Arthur added, glancing out the nearby window. "You should get some sleep. You've gone through a lot. But I fear your house is too far of a walk in this darkness, so you better stay in the castle for tonight."

"That is probably a good idea, sire." No longer saying his name meant that their intimate moment was over.

At least, it was for her. The kind-hearted prince wasn't quite done caring for her yet. "You are more than welcome to sleep in my quarters for the night."

As if that would make their extremely complicated relationship any easier. Gwen bowed her head low and out of his line of sight so he could not see her flushed cheeks. "It is a kind thought, sire, but I feel it would be more appropriate if I were to stay with Lady Morgana this evening."

"Yes. Yes, of course. You are absolutely right." He was slightly hurt by her refusal, but they both knew it was wrong and would have had consequences one way or the other. "If it is alright with you, I would like to check on your brother's progress tomorrow."

"It is more than alright, Arthur. I mean, sire."

Arthur shook his head and reached for her hand to give it an assuring squeeze. "No. Call me Arthur. I like that better." He quickly let go and turned back toward his room. "Sleep well, Guinevere."

She waited until he was beyond earshot. "Sleep well, my love."


	3. Elyan's Travels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I really start to make up my own shit, fyi. So, if I haven't mentioned this already, it is very AU.

At Morgana's request, Gwen arrived at the physician's quarters early the next morning with a basket full of assorted fruits and aged cheese. Elyan was not awake yet, and Gwen saw no harm in filling her belly as she waited for him, Gaius more than happy to keep her company and indulge himself with a few ripe strawberries. 

"How much longer do you think it will be until Elyan is fit to wake?" Gwen asked in a low, hushed voice.

Gaius shook his head after biting into the succulent, red fruit. "You are most impatient, my child."

"And you would not be if one of your relations had shown up unexpectedly years later?"

"Guinevere, I am not denying you your right," Gaius admitted defensively. "I'm just simply saying that you should be thankful enough that he is alive and with you at last. His breathing has almost returned to normal, and I expect he shall be out of bed within six or seven days."

Gwen achingly rubbed her knuckle over one of her tired eyes. As much as her body needed sleep last night, it did not come. Her mind was restless, filled with thoughts of the unknown. "Of course, I'm thankful. I prayed to God for blessing me with such happy tidings. But there are so many unanswered questions. I'm desperate to know why he was hunted after and, more importantly, why it has taken him so long to return to me."

Curious about the nature of Gwen's relationship with her brother, as she had certainly never spoken of him or his absence before, Gaius put forth some questions of his own. "Were the two of you close as children?"

"Undeniably," Gwen answered with a reminiscent smirk. "Only a year separated us, so we were practically the same person. He always found a way to make me smile, even in the darkest of times." Her thoughts silently strayed to the premature passing of her mother.

"What was it that made him leave?"

Gwen tried to recall the memory to the best of her knowledge, though it grieved her immensely. "It was a disagreement. With my father." Gaius watched as the young girl's eyes transformed into vacant pools of despair, the brutal death of her father still fresh in her mind. "I was never told the exact details of their argument, but I do remember the night he left. I was lying on my bed, asking Elyan why he was packing his knapsack so late at night. He told me to close my eyes and picture myself running through an expansive field; a field teeming with vibrant, sweet-smelling…"

"Purple Hydrangeas," Elyan said from the other side of the room. Gwen wondered how long her brother had been listening to their conversation.

But it didn't matter in the least. He was awake now and she would spend any number of hours talking with him to rediscover each other's lives. Gwen took a seat next to her brother. "They're still my favorite flower."

"I would hope so. I wanted your last memory of me to be a happy one involving fragrant meadows."

The fact that it was her last memory of him caused the features on Gwen's face to turn severe. "That does not mean that I was happy once you had gone. I was so angry with how easy it was for you to abandon me. Though I have missed you dearly, I have not quite forgiven you yet."

Elyan had anticipated that Gwen might not behave as magnanimous to his return as she would have four years ago. His sister was no longer a child, but a woman grown. Hence why it was so important for him to come back and explain why he had to leave in the first place.

"I had no intention of hurting you, Gwen. But as much as I have always cared for you, leaving was my only option."

"No, you wouldn't have gone if you and father weren't so ridiculously stubborn," Gwen said, breathing fire into her words. "Anytime you disagreed it turned into a matter of life and death. I was astonished that frequent arguments between a blacksmith and a blacksmith's son never involved steel or ended in bloodshed."

Elyan shook his head, trying to remind himself that her ignorance was understandable. "You do not know all that father has kept from you. I'm surprised he has not forbidden you from seeing me now when he knows where I have gone and why I've returned for you."

Gwen's heart plummeted. Of course he did not know. Gwen did not know his whereabouts and, therefore, could not send him a letter recounting this tragedy. Their relationship may have been strained, but family was family. "Elyan, I…" she said, softening a little, "I don't know how to say this, but father would not have been able to command me in such a way even if he wanted to."

He looked at her cautiously. "I don't understand?"

The words caught in Gwen's throat. It hurt too much, a part of her still in denial. She could say no more on the subject. 

Fortunately, she didn't have to. The young serving girl felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Tom Leodegrance was killed under the order of King Uther for escaping imprisonment," Merlin stated, taking the burden off of Gwen. She didn't know when her friend had entered the room, but she was grateful he was here now.

"Is this true?"

Gwen nodded. "Yes, but it was not father's fault. There was no cause for him to be locked up in the first place. Uther Pendragon just makes it his mission to punish all of those accused of consorting with sorcerers, whether they're guilty or not."

Elyan also found himself at a loss for words. He thought of his time with his father. How short it was, particularly. And in that time he managed to belittle his father and defy his rules on numerous occasions, his decision to leave the family being one of them.

"I know you think I did not love father, Gwenie," Elyan said, his words sounding heavy with sorrow, "but I did. He was a good man and I am sure he did not deserve this end. But I could not ignore the fact that he had chosen to deceive us both. I still stand by what I did four years ago."

Gwen was tired of the cryptic messages and mind games. "Deceive us? What do you mean? Elyan, please tell me everything you know."

Elyan made to readjust his position on the narrow cot, but his movements were languid and one accidental stretch of his ribs caused him to wince in pain. The old physician rushed forth, shoving several pillows beneath his patient's shoulders. Though Merlin and Gaius made no attempt to leave, Elyan decided he was in good enough company to share his secrets. After all, they did save his life. "I suppose the best place to start is from the beginning. The day before my argument with father, I was walking down to the market for some supplies. An unfamiliar noble woman caught my particular interest and I somehow found the courage to converse with her. She was reluctant, at first, to talk to a local peasant boy, but I soon won her over with my mulish attentions. Her name was Aelia and she told me she was visiting from Callistus."

"A Callistan? In Camelot? That's a bit odd," Merlin commented. He silently cursed himself for interrupting the story as it was a privilege for him to even listen in.

But Elyan was not offended. "It was. And when I asked about the nature of her visit, she said that she was searching for a distant relative of hers that was rumored to have fled to Camelot."

Gaius spoke this time. "But there are no Callistans in Camelot. At least there haven't been for some time. Who did she say the relation was?"

"Hilaria," Elyan answered, pointedly fixing his gaze on Gwen.

She held his gaze but looked completely perplexed. "But that was our mother's name."

"Which was the very same thing I told Aelia. She described this woman based on a family portrait she had procured, and each detail painted the perfect picture of our mother."

Gwen tried to stop herself from laughing as she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Elyan, but what you're telling me right now sounds absolutely ridiculous. I mean, our mother, a Callistan noble woman?"

"Not just a noble," Elyan said, his eyes shining brightly, "but a princess."

"Yes, now I know you're lying to me." Gwen felt she was being mocked by her own brother and found cause to look away from him.

Elyan's arm aimlessly reached out and grabbed her hand once he found it. "I would never lie to you, Gwen. Especially when it concerns our own mother."

"Finish your tale," she said guardedly.

"When I explained to the woman," he resumed, "that our mother had died, she looked very troubled and said Hilaria was their last hope for the Valerius line to stay in succession on the throne. The Valerius family, our mother's legacy, had been ruling over the land of Callistus for the past 200 years."

Merlin was very enthusiastic about this news. "Oh my goodness, Gwen, you're royalty!"

Gwen, however, was still skeptical. "There is no concrete evidence to support that just yet."

"Then, why don't you come to Callistus with me to see for yourself?"

"What?" Gwen said with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Merlin piped in as well. "Yeah, what? Gwen's not going anywhere. Especially now that we know she's a noble woman, maybe Arthur will finally work up the nerve to ask Gwen--"

Merlin felt as if the wind was knocked out of him as Gwen did not hesitate in using her sharp elbow to put an abrupt end to his sentence. She glared at him venomously. "Do not presume to know such things, Merlin. It will only get you into trouble."

"Why is he talking about an Arthur?" Elyan asked Gwen specifically. "Surely he does not mean that arrogant, dim-witted Prince."

Gwen pinched her brother's arm, letting his injury slip her mind so she could chastise him properly. "How dare you speak so ill of the crowned Prince! You are in his family's care right now, so you should be grateful. He even expressed a wish to stop by to see how you were feeling today."

Elyan sighed. "Guinevere, please do not tell me that you fancy yourself in love with this man? It's more absurd than my telling you that you're the heir to a foreign throne."

"I doubt it," Gwen quietly mumbled. "Anyway, I do not wish to talk about Arthur anymore, because I know all of your story has not been told."

Elyan obliged, though he would discuss this with her later. "Very well, I guess you can assume from there that I confronted father about this, but he refused to acknowledge it. The most he told me was that it was a part of their lives that they wished to leave in the past. But I didn't. And so I left with Aelia the next day to journey back to her homeland.

"Aelia then told me that without a Valerius on the throne, Callistus had to be governed by the next available kin. Unfortunately, that person was Livius Tiberius, an army general known for his maliciously unforgiving tactics in warfare. He was never deserving of the crown and since his reign five years ago, Callistus has become a poor, unprotected land. Livius cares not for his people, as many of them lay starving in the streets. He is only greedy for more wealth and power."

"How awful," Gaius finally breathed out amidst the horrified silence.

"And there is no other heir to overthrow him?" Gwen asked, still not entirely convinced by Elyan's story of their family's heritage.

Elyan smiled then, thought Gwen was unsure why. "There are but two. And since you are the eldest, your power in this case is greater than mine. That is why it is imperative for to you to finally come home, Guinevere. Not just for our family, but for your people too."

The young serving girl stare at her brother in a daze. So many pieces of this intricate puzzle still did not quite fit together. She wanted to believe Elyan, wanted to believe that she could be a part of something grand and extraordinary, but it didn't make sense with the quiet, ordinary life she always imagined was her future. "I don't understand. Why would father have kept this from us? Why would they both ignore their right to rule a kingdom?"

"It was mother's right, not father's. He was just a lowly servant in the castle, but they fell in love anyway." Gwen's eyes darted down, feeling the weight of Merlin's gaze behind her. This part of the story was sounding all too familiar. "They kept their torrid affair a secret for some time, until mother discovered she was pregnant with you, Gwen. It was then she made the decision to flee her kingdom and start a new life as the wife of a blacksmith."

"So, what you're trying to tell me," Gwen said, slowly and unsure if she heard her brother correctly, "is that I'm a bastard daughter of a princess who abandoned her responsibilities because she was in love? That's unbelievably horrendous! How could you think I would honestly be welcomed in such a place with open arms?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Well, if you put it like that, yes, there is a bit of a negative ring to it. But I'm sure they don't hate you. Do they?" Merlin quickly asked, looking back at Elyan.

"Only close family members know the truth of why mother left. They've been very discreet regarding the situation so that her name could not be tarnished. Most of these people are dead anyway. Her father and brother, who were both once Kings of Callistus, have perished in battle. Valerius translated means 'strong', and this family lived by that code by fighting alongside their men to protect their precious land."

It was a sad yet beautifully inspiring tale of determination. If Gwen was ever going to be a long lost member of a royal family, she felt rather proud that it was this one. They sounded like good and caring people. "I wish I could have had the chance to meet them."

"As do I," Elyan added. "I only heard of their remarkable victories and kind acts. But our remaining family, like Aelia, still wishes for us to make Callistus our permanent home. I already have and it was the best decision I ever made. They are good people, Gwen."

"Yes, but you're asking for more than just a relocation. There are already problems enough in that." She thought of her friends in Camelot, and she thought of Arthur. "But declaring my right to be Queen of this place is something entirely different. It's risky, and too sudden, and I don't even think I have the necessary skills to rule a land and its people."

Gwen's head was spinning wildly. Elyan knew this was a lot of information for her to process, having gone through it himself. But he could not deny that there was a sense of urgency to their situation. "I know that what I am asking of you would be a substantial adjustment. You have every right to refuse because I would not force you to do this against your will. But you would be helping so many people, Gwen. They've never even met you and yet their love and faith in you is strong. Coming to Callistus and challenging Livius' rule would finally give the people something to believe in again. You have the opportunity to give them hope."

Gwen was conflicted. How was she supposed to respond to that? "I…I…"

"I'm sure," Gaius interjected, "Gwen appreciates the severity of your cause, Elyan. However, I think it would be very wise to give her time to think over this proposal."

Elyan was more than willing to agree to this. "Of course. I would expect nothing less from my sister. Besides, I have it on good authority that I won't be traveling anywhere for a short while." He patted his bandaged side cautiously.

There was a knock at the physician's door. Arthur's broad physique appeared from behind the door as it opened. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"Not at all, sire," Gwen said after she stood up, her eyes now locked on their new guest. "We were just getting to know each other a little better."

"Then I take it he is well?" Arthur walked forward to find evidence of this for himself.

Elyan nodded in his direction before glancing at his sister inquiringly. "I shall fully recover in time. You are Prince Arthur, I presume?"

Arthur shook his head lightly. "Titles are not necessary here. I am just happy to see that your wound is not fatal and that Guinevere has the chance to reunite with her brother again. You are also more than welcome to stay in the castle as long as you wish."

"How very kind of you, sire," Elyan said after witnessing a brief exchange between his sister and the prince. "But once I can get on my feet again, I shall move back into my old home with my sister."

Arthur nodded. "The obvious choice, I see. And I'm sure she would take wonderful care of you there. Unfortunately, I must now take my leave to train the knights. It was a pleasure to meet you, Elyan." He then turned his concentration on his servant. "Merlin, I hope you are well rested for what's in store for you today."

"I know, I know," he responded with a long, contemptuous sigh. "I'll go and prepare the buckets now." Before leaving with Arthur, Merlin leaned into Gwen and whispered in her ear. "If you do decide to be Queen of Callistus, let me know. I'd much prefer to work under your instruction."

Gwen laughed before shoving her friend away from her. "Don't be too sure of that, Merlin." Staring at Arthur's retreating form, she felt herself already making her decision. How could she knowingly walk away from the man she loved and admired above all else?


	4. The Importance of Being Bequest

Elyan's strength grew steadily over the next several days. Arthur had an additional mattress sent down to Gwen's house, and soon enough brother and sister became a family again. Elyan was forced to spend most of his time in bed, but whenever Gwen was out, he would wander the familiar living space and stare at old relics that belonged to his father. He wished he could have said goodbye, or at least tell his father that no matter what happened between them, he would always love him like a son should.

Elyan was hovering near the window ledge when Gwen returned. His fingertips were memorizing the contours of a little wooden horse that his father had carved for him many years ago.

"And what do you think you're doing?" Gwen scolded, marching over to Elyan and gently nudging him toward his bed. "Gaius specifically instructed that you were to be bedridden until tomorrow. Honestly, you have the patience of a small child."

Elyan sighed. "I'm sure you would feel the same if you were locked to a confined space for an extended length of time. I need to do something, Gwenie. I feel useless. Why don't I cook for you tonight?"

This was certainly something new. If her memory served her right, Elyan used to actually throw a fit if father asked him to help prepare meals. Come to think of it, he responded much in that way about any chore required of him. "You've never offered to do that before. Didn't you used to say that 'cooking was for girls'."

"That was a long time ago," Elyan said with his head down. "I've had a bit of practice in Callistus. Aelia's become rather handy in the kitchen and was kind enough to take me under her tutelage."

Gwen raised her eyebrows, strangely amused. "She cooks? But I thought you said she was a noblewoman?"

"She is…most definitely noble. But hard times at the kingdom have caused even royalty to make certain cutbacks, like cooks. Well, apart from King Livius, of course. I think he's gotten fatter over the last two years. Selfish poppycock."

Elyan thought he muttered the last part under his breath, Gwen's ears were finely tuned as of late. "Elyan, that is not talk that I will allow in this house, even if he is as horrible as you say. Now, let us not stray from our previous topic. I believe we were talking about this 'Aelia' that you speak of so highly. I thought you said she is one of our relations?" Gwen was inclined to believe there was something more than friendship between these two.

"Distant" Elyan answered, feeling suddenly very hot in the face. "She's a very distant family member on our grandmother's side. If anything, our two families are rather just close acquaintances…sister, I fear I must confess something to you."

Gwen set aside the laundry she was folding and sat on the bed next to Elyan, already guessing what he might have to say. "You have my rapt attention."

He was nervous and his palms seemed to sweat as she held them within her own. "I, well truthfully, I was hoping that if you were to decide to come to Callistus with me, you might get a chance to meet Aelia. More specifically, I am very interested in knowing your opinion of her."

"And why is that?"

"Because," he started, thinking that if he didn't declare this now he might never find the strength, "because I believe she is the most adorable creature sent on this earth and…"

Gwen beamed at her brother. "You wish to marry her?"

He nodded bashfully. "She is everything to me, Gwenie. And she loves me, she told me as much before I left. I hope I have your blessing in this matter."

"Dear, sweet brother, you never needed my blessing. But you have it, nonetheless." She clutched his arm to her breast, leaning her head on his broad shoulder. "I am happy that you found someone you wish to share your life with. I only hope that she is worthy of your love. You have one of the greatest hearts I know."

Elyan talked in great length about his (hopefully) future bride and Gwen absorbed all of it with a sweet smile. "Our relationship, unfortunately, must remain a secret until the time is right," Elyan said solemnly. "There are not many in Callistus who even know that a member of the Valerius family has been living in their country the last four years. If King Livius ever found out, we would surely be dead. I fear that is why I was attacked the other night. His men suspect that there is more to my presence than they originally believed. It is only a matter of time until the King discovers what we are planning."

Gwen was uneasy. "And what exactly are you planning? Nothing too dangerous, I hope."

"Gwen," Elyan said, his eyes dark and distant. She had not been there, he tried to remind himself. She did not see what his eyes had seen. "Citizens of Callistus are dying every day of starvation and overexertion. If someone disobeys Livius, they are executed without a second thought. Some have already given up and fled the country, tired of the king's oppression. Others still, those in our alliance, have not forgotten that Callistus is the home of their forefathers, and they are not willing to leave it in the hands of a greedy tyrant. So they remain strong. Hoping God or some other being will show them the right path, and bring peace and prosperity again. I've tried to do what I can for them with only Aelia and our devoted followers to aid those efforts, but it is still not enough. We must continue building up our forces until we are able to seize the Kingdom and overthrow Livius. It is the only way."

Gwen's fears were confirmed. "Elyan, I know your heart is in the right place, but declaring war is extremely rash. War claims lives, and I do not want it take yours. Anyway, if it is indeed my right to be Queen, why can't I just ask him to step down? Aren't there rules regarding succession and so forth?"

Her brother smiled as he considered her seemingly simple resolution. "If Kings willingly abdicated their throne because someone asked them, the world would surely be a different place. The blood that flows through our veins constitutes our royal birth right, but the fact remains that Livius is already King. He can only leave his place if we physically remove him. He must surrender to our will, and he will not do so with ease."

He was doing it again. Elyan was trying to appeal to Gwen's emotional and compassionate side because he knew it would be a benefactor in her choosing to go or stay. 

"I understand that it is my initial right as the first-born," Gwen said, her body language revealing all of her insecurities, “but what if I don't think I'm fit to be Queen? What if I choose not to accept this responsibility? Can't I just hand the position over to you?"

Elyan filled his lungs before letting the air out slowly. "That has always been a possibility. It would have to be a formal withdrawal in front of witnesses, preferably residents of Callistus. But…" He could see Gwen practically making her decision right then and there, and found his hope starting to diminsh. "But, Gwen, I have so much faith in you as a person and a future Queen. It would be an honor to serve my homeland in that respect, and yet I whole-heartily believe that this is what you were meant to do. You are a leader. I've seen it in you since childhood, when you took care of me and rejuvenated our family after mother died. The Valerius blood flows strongly in you."

It was wonderful to know that her brother believed in her that much, but she still had trouble recognizing that confidence in herself. The pressures of duty and courage were so great that it felt like an invisible weight her shoulders were not meant to carry.

"I still need more time," she replied disconnectedly, before exiting their small cottage and wandering out into the busy market square. The air around her now was less constricting and she took several deep breaths to calm her nerves.

She roamed through the crowd of sellers and buyers, questioning how this all came to be. Of all people, why was she chosen, the poor servant girl that she was? If only Gwen could just close her eyes and wake up to find that this was all a strange dream, she would promise to never complain about being a servant again. There was nothing at all wrong with an ordinary peasant life, the more she thought about it. It would certainly be less complicated, and there wouldn't be as many expectations of her.

She needed someone to talk to, someone who was not privy to the details of her current predicament and could remind her again of who she really was. Morgana, perhaps? No. As dear as this woman was to Gwen, there was only one person she truly had in mind.

"Arthur," Gwen quietly breathed before trudging up the castle steps and locating his room. 

She would knock three times, and if he did not answer by then she would halt her pursuits until later. He opened the door after the   
second knock.

"Guinevere." He sounded pleasantly surprised to see her.

"Hello, Arthur." At his request, she had taken to addressing him by name when not in the presence of others. "I hope I'm not interrupting at all, but I was wondering if you might be available to…talk."  
The prince, now leaning against the door frame in a rather alluring manner, tried not to stumble after hearing her request. "Talk? Absolutely. I'd love to talk." Was he dreaming this? Putting aside his thoughts of a false reality, he allowed Gwen admittance into his chambers before promptly closing the door. For privacy reasons, of course.

"I hope there's nothing wrong," Arthur suddenly added.

Gwen felt easily insulted. "Why? Why is that the first thing you assume? Am I only allowed to speak to you if some horrible injustice has been brought upon me?" Her tongue spat out every syllable like venom; a defense mechanism to conceal the truth from Arthur. Okay, so maybe she should not have yelled at him so irrationally. He was the crowned prince, after all. There was also the fact that his assumption wasn't far off. Something was wrong and she needed help in making it right again. "I beg your pardon, sire. That was unforgivable."

It bothered him to see her bow her head so shamefully. Why couldn't they be equals? Was it so wrong? In some ways, he admired the fiery look in her eyes when she was angry with him. It gave her strength and demanded attention.

"There is nothing to forgive," he said before lifting her chin up so that their eyes were level. Her face warmed at the touch. "Besides, you are absolutely right. I want you to feel comfortable talking to me whenever you feel like it. You…your friendship means a lot to me."

His touch burned now, and not in a pleasant way. Friendship? She weakly smiled, trying to imagine the rest of her life only being Arthur’s friend. It was a lonely existence. "Yes. We are friends. Which means we can talk to each other like two normal human beings, who are friends, right?" Every word from her lips sounded forced.

He laughed, and she hated that he laughed. "What do you wish to talk about?"

"Well, I'm not quite sure at the moment." Gwen did not plan how she would appropriately approach this topic, but she knew she could not discuss her newfound royalty with him just yet. Or ever, she begrudgingly thought. Since she had not made any concrete decisions regarding her new station, it was best to avoid it altogether. She also didn't want to put any ideas in his head.

Not that it mattered, though, because they were only friends.

"Maybe you should start," Gwen said, delaying the inevitable. "My life is not nearly as exciting as yours. How has your day been?" Ugh. A dull question to ask a prince.

But Arthur was cordial, nonetheless. "It was very…productive, I guess. Lord Edward is no longer shooting arrows at the ground, which means he may eventually aim it at the target. Morgana and I went riding to the lake. But the real highlight of my day was when father felt it necessary to carefully educate me on the proper way to schmooze a king."

Gwen furrowed her eyebrows. "What is that supposed to mean exactly?"

"It means," Arthur said, donning his best interpretation of the elder Pendragon, "that 'in anticipation of next week's visit from King Archibald the Third, from the Castle of Warwick, you must give the impression that you are agreeable and dignified so that our peace treaty will not yield any further complications.' His words, not mine."

"That's absolutely appalling! I can't believe he actually said that to you."

Arthur shrugged. "Maybe he had a point. I mean, there is a certain decorum when meeting with royal families. I thought I knew what I was doing, but if my track record could speak for itself, it would say I could use a lesson or two in etiquette."

"Arthur Pendragon," Gwen said, commanding his full attention, "don't you dare put yourself down like that. Your past interactions with royalty may have had its obstacles, but that is because you are fighting against so many odds; odds that are trying to bring you down. Would you like to know what I think?"

"Always."

She pretended to ignore the fluttering in her stomach after hearing his charming reply. "I think that you are kind, and fair, and willing to lay down your life for the good of your kingdom and its people. And your father might be envious of that. He sees the markings of a great leader in you, but he wants you to be great because of him. That is why Uther still tries so hard to have you learn his methods and his graces. He doesn't want you to eventually forget him and who he was as King of Camelot."

Arthur could not conjure up a reply. If this was true, he felt foolish for dragging his feet whenever his father lectured unremittingly. He always assumed that, as a son, he was a major disappointment to his father. Perhaps their relationship did have stronger foundations.

His silence made Gwen uneasy. She didn't mean to speak out of turn. After all, he gave her permission to make her opinion known. "Although, I could be wrong. These are merely observational musings from a silly girl."

"No," Arthur finally said. "It makes perfect sense, actually. I just can't believe he hasn't noticed that I've spent most of my years trying to please him and make him proud. He's my father. I could never forget him."

"Fathers are always hard on their sons, Arthur. It is because they set such high expectations for them. Just because they choose a different path, it does not mean their father will love them any less." Gwen thought of Elyan and how their father missed him terribly after he left Camelot.

Arthur was under Gwen's spell now, clinging to her willingness to give advice on this overly troublesome topic. "Then what should I do, Guinevere? How do I follow my own path without having my father chastise my abilities as a future King?"

"Arthur, I…I don't have all the answers," Gwen replied, looking away from him. She was ashamed she had let her mouth run away from her as far as it did.

"But you do have more to say, I see it in your eyes."

She flirted playfully, changing the subject. "What? Can you read like a book, Arthur?"

Arthur smiled and forced her to look upon him once more. "Not all the time. You're capable of shutting me out when you really want to. But when you're passionate about something—I mean truly devoted to a belief—it's as if all of those raw feelings you contain flow out of your body and into those that surround you. When you speak, they don't just hear what you say, they can feel it. You make me want to listen and do what I know is right."

Gwen felt light-headed. She had never received such high praise in her life. Men have told her she was beautiful. Morgana and Merlin often regarded her as a wonderful listener. Her father, of course, was the best at compliments, always telling her when she excelled in her abilities.

But those were nothing compared to this. Arthur's words had made her want to cry, and smile, and laugh as if she were the happiest person in the world. He made her feel appreciated, beyond all normal meanings of the word.

"Thank you." It was all she could think of saying at the moment. Luckily her eyes were communicating her feelings to him well enough. She lost herself in his deep blue orbs, and it was spiraling both of them out of control.

He inched closer, the heat intensifying. How long would the seconds be until Arthur's lips were on hers? It was only a matter of time. Precious, agonizing time.

And then there was that little voice inside her head. It told her to regain her senses, common sense being the most important one to abide by. Though they both wanted to give into desire, kissing for the third time would only complicate things further. "I wonder where Merlin is," she said barely louder than a whisper. He felt her words against his face as they spilled out rapidly.

"Merlin?" Arthur scrunched up his brow. "Why should that matter right now?"

Gwen used this distraction to take a step back and observe her surroundings. It was her way of stopping what would have eventually been deemed as a mistake anyway. "I don't know. I was just curious as to where he was. He is usually with you, after all."

Arthur understood now. He erected his posture and accepted defeat in this circumstance. She did not want to kiss him. That much was clear the moment she backed away from him. So, this was how it was to be from now on. Perhaps it was for the best anyway. Kissing and flirting would only get them into trouble at present.

"He's probably with Gaius," Arthur finally answered, not the least bit interested in his servant's whereabouts. "Or the tavern. If you want to go and look for him, I should not keep you any longer." He was trying to be civil; trying to give her an easy exit. As much as he wanted to be with her and touch her and smile because of her, the last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable.

"No. I suppose that's really not necessary. But I think I would like to check on my brother. He's been walking around far more than Gaius has permitted." She made walking away look so easy. If only Arthur knew how much it pained her to leave his side whenever they were together.

Gwen had made it to the door and issued a courteous goodbye before Arthur swiftly stopped her. There was a question on his mind that he had been meaning to ask her. "Guinevere, since it is quite obvious that your opinion holds great meaning to me, I must ask you something. Do you truly think I'll make a good king one day?"

Gwen smiled instantly, not hesitating in her response. "I have no doubt of it, Arthur. Even if the world were to fall to pieces, and the only thing we had left was faith, Camelot would remain and rejoice in the continual hope you provide them. As long as you do not give up on them, they'll know and they'll love you for it."

He could hear the sincerity in her voice. It seemed to make Arthur's troubles dissolve, like he was willing to persevere through anything. She had a way with pretty words; that much was certain. If things were different, he thought to himself, Guinevere would make an excellent queen. Because it wasn't just the words that touched him. It was her absolute confidence in him that made those words feel more real than the door in front of him, which soon closed shut after she left.

Gwen started walking back to her tiny cottage, thinking carefully about her conversation with Prince Arthur. She considered the kind things he said about her, as well as her own input on his future as King. And the more her thoughts lingered on this subject, the more she realized she would be a hypocrite if she did not already know the answer to Elyan's request.

She found Elyan sitting in the same slouched position on his bed, ready to pick up where they left off in their conversation. "Listen, Gwen, I need to apologize to you. I know you have a very important decision to make and I don't want to pressure you in anyway so…"

"I'm going."  
"…if you feel your place is here, then…" Elyan paused, processing his sister's words. "What did you say?"

Gwen squared her shoulders, head tilted up with certain determination. "I have made my decision, Elyan. We're going to Callistus. Save your strength. We depart Sunday morning."


	5. A Farewell to Arthur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long. I've been entirely too absorbed in another fandom at present...anyway, enjoy!

Lady Morgana and her faithful serving girl wandered the lush grounds beyond the outer walls of the castle. It was Saturday and the late sun was beating down on their exposed necks.Being so near to the stables, the air could be described as nothing short of putrid. The grass was still damp from yesterday’s rain, causing a thin layer of mud to stain Morgana’s new satin shoes.

But none of that burdened the fine lady as much as it normally would, as her thoughts were rather occupied at present.

"Why must you leave me, Gwen? I really don't think it's fair," Morgana exclaimed with a languished sigh. Gwen broke the news of her departure the following morning. Lady Morgana had been moping ever since. "I mean, am I not important to you anymore?"

Gwen playfully tugged on the arm that was linked with her own. "That is a ridiculous question, milady. Of course you are. But this is something I have to do." Morgana did not already know the whole of her history, as Merlin and Gaius did, and Gwen thought it unnecessary to go into full detail as to why she was leaving. She kept it vague, saying that she wanted to see her mother's homeland, which could easily be interpreted as an unembellished truth—of sorts.

"Yes, yes, that sounds all very noble. Your duty is bound to your family, I understand that. But who is going to brush my hair and spread gossip with me about the knights at court? And don't you dare say 'Eleanor' because the last time she took over for you I spent a week getting all the knots out of my hair. Did I mention that she turned Lady Suffolk's sheets purple? It was ghastly."

The giggles escaped before Gwen could put a stop to them. It really wasn't a laughing matter if Morgana did have to take on Eleanor as her maid, but the isolated incidents were rather amusing.

"Do not laugh, Gwen. This is serious," she admonished, looking for sympathy from her friend. "I will never find a replacement that is equal to half your merit."

"You are too kind, Lady Morgana. But I am not without fault."

Morgana dragged Gwen over to the nearby fountain to sit on the ledge. "Well, you are nearly perfect anyway. If you were more so, I suspect you'd have the right mind not to leave."

Gwen drew her eyes down to the narrow stalks of grass that brushed against her ankles as she rested there. She did not know how to respond to Morgana's assessment of perfection, because selfish reasons were the only thing that could keep her in Camelot—Morgana, Merlin, and…Arthur. She feared that one look from Arthur might change her mind indefinitely. But could she willingly stay for her own pleasures and happiness when the people of her country were lacking the most fundamental resources?

"I expect Arthur did not take the news very well either." Morgana's voice pulled Gwen out of her own absorbed thoughts.

However, hearing the words did not mean she knew how to answer them without getting into a bit of trouble. "Yes, I suppose."

"Oh my," Morgana said, gaping at her confidant, "you didn't tell him yet, did you?"

Gwen’s own disgrace made her feel quite small. "Not exactly. You see, I was never able to find the right time," she lied.

Morgana was so appalled by Gwen's actions, or lack thereof, that she almost felt justified in shoving the girl into the cold waters of the fountain behind them. Arthur was certainly not one of her favorite people, but he didn't deserve this. She knew he loved Gwen, and could imagine how he would feel once she vanished without a word. "Well, you are quickly running out of time, my dear. You need to tell him. It would be cruel not to."

"He's not the only one who feels something here. I haven't told him because…it is painful for me too. Admitting to him that both time and distance will separate us could have serious repercussions." _Like not leaving_ , she thought, but kept that confession to herself. It was true, though. If Arthur were to tell her not to go, she might not have the strength to disobey.

Morgana was less scolding now, understanding Gwen's personal afflictions. "All I know is that Camelot is going to have a moody prince for the next few months—or however long it takes to mend a broken heart. And anyway, I shall miss you terribly as well." The arms that suddenly wrapped around Gwen's neck were somewhat startling. But she soon relaxed in them and hugged her lady in return. Their professional relationship had blossomed so naturally over the course of Gwen’s employment into a beautiful friendship, and she could not deny that she would miss Morgana equally.

This was the scene that lay before Arthur as he and Merlin approached the two women. "You really are strangely attached to your servants, Morgana.” Arthur's three companions gawked at him disbelievingly, feeling the full irony of his comment. Nobody formed these particular attachments more so than their fair prince—Merlin and Gwen being prime examples of this fact. “Whereas I get elbow jabs and harsh glares instead of warm embraces. Am I not like a brother to you?"

"Of course," Morgana said good-humoredly, “but isn’t that what brothers are for?  Anyway, I shall not stoop to your childish level today. It would be a waste of my time when I could instead spend those precious few moments with Gwen." She smiled at her servant before realizing the implications of her words. Gwen tensed apprehensively.

"And what exactly is so precious about that?" Arthur asked curiously. "Gwen is by your side practically every day." There was a hint of jealousy in his tone.

Morgana chided herself for this accidental slip of the tongue, and attempted to hastily cover it up. "I only say 'precious' because now that Gwen's brother is home I feel as if I do not see her as much as I used to."

"I suppose that's true," Arthur said with a shrug.

Gwen relaxed her shoulders, silently thanking her friend. Although, the thought had crossed her mind that Morgana was knowingly leaving hints for Arthur. Morgana was quite cross with Gwen for not having told him yet.

"How is Elyan, by the way? Fit to ride any time soon?" Merlin asked with a sly grin. He knew perfectly well about her brother's current state of health, having stopped by this morning to say his goodbyes to Gwen and Elyan.

His taunting was evident and she wonder how much longer she could actually avoid the subject altogether. "He is remarkably well, Merlin. Thank you for your concern. If he felt the need to ride his horse in the near future I'm sure he would be more than capable." She narrowed her eyes at her scrawny friend.

Unfortunately, Arthur caught onto Merlin's meaning. "Does he wish to leave again so soon? He's only just come back to Camelot to see you."

"I have it on good authority that he will remain at my side." Gwen's attempts at vague ambiguity were clever but futile if she was to continue this charade for much longer. She had to leave before saying goodbye would become quite impossible. "And speaking of Elyan, I should return home now. His newfound energy has given him an extremely robust appetite."

Considering herself Gwen’s dearest friend, Morgana knew that something had to be done about the girl’s refusal to speak to Arthur. It was for her own good. "It looks as if it shall be dark soon. You'll never make it home before the sun goes down. Arthur, you should escort her."

"No, really, I don't think that's necessary," Gwen quickly protested, her direct gaze pleading with Morgana. She knew what the woman was doing and did not like it one bit.

Morgana waved her hand with a note of finality. "Nonsense. We are all quite aware of the troubles that have fallen upon Camelot over the last few years, and I will worry for your safety unless our finest knight sees you to your door."

Though Lady Morgana’s suggestion seemed slightly out of character to Arthur, considering Gwen had walked home from the castle at night on numerous occasions, he was nevertheless happy to oblige. "It would certainly be no trouble for me. Besides, Guinevere, you've already been kidnapped once. We can't have that happening again."

Two against one. Merlin, she assumed, would not take their side as well. When she looked to her scrawny friend, he didn’t say a word, but nodded his head in agreement with the others. This battle was clearly lost. Gwen wanted to pout and commit some act of defiance—which was a reminder of her youth, whenever her father would not buy her something from the market—but she was a servant in the presence of royalty and that was simply unacceptable behavior.  “Very well.”

"Wonderful," Arthur said, not doing a good job of concealing his excitement. "Shall we proceed then?"

Before they left, however, Morgana ran up to Gwen and wrapped her in one last embrace. She spoke low in the girl’s ear. "Do not despise me. It is best this way, for both of you." She pulled back, this time speaking at a slightly more audible volume. "You are a wonderful person, Gwen. Don't ever change." Gwen's lips stretched in a small smile so they could at least part on good terms.

Gwen turned to face Merlin. "Remember what I said, Gwen," he remarked before giving the girl a friendly nod. Merlin had made her promise to contact him if there was ever a need. Gwen was going to miss him. Since he first arrived in Camelot, his friendship and kindness have been utterly vital to her and something she would never forget.

Arthur, meanwhile, felt like the butt of an awful joke. There was clearly some nonverbal communication occurring between the three friends, of which he was perfectly clueless. Instead of questioning them now, however, he decided to wait until he was alone with Guinevere. He had his own astute ways of extracting information from her.

Once they left, a formidable silence lingered for the majority of the walk to Gwen's house. The serving girl, however, preferred this to saying anything at all, being still so unprepared and unnerved to have her handsome prince at her side. Arthur simply glanced at Gwen ever so often to try and guess what might be churning inside of her head. They were almost at the door.

"Alright, just come out with it then."

Gwen looked up at him, startled. "Come out with what exactly?"

"There's something strange going on between the three of you," he said before switching on his devilish grin. "I'm going to find out eventually so you might as well tell me now."

Her heart was racing. Arthur's tall, strapping form drew closer to Gwen, who instinctively retreated until her back was pressed against her own door. His earthy aroma and piercing blue eyes were fantastically intoxicating. This was really not going well at all for her. "Perhaps we may discuss this matter further inside, Arthur. It would be unbecoming if anyone were to walk by at this moment."

She had a point. It was a habit of hers, always being right.

Gwen felt for the door knob behind her and twisted it open. The small living space, to her surprise and apparent good fortune, was empty. Elyan said he wanted to wander the streets of Camelot on his last night in town and it seemed he had not returned yet. Perhaps that was for the best. Elyan would be a very counterproductive catalyst for this conversation.

"Arthur, I have some rather interesting news to share." She opted out of offering him tea or even a place to sit down. They faced each other in the dimly lit room, several feet apart. "You see, I…well, that is, Elyan and myself are going on a trip."

"Is that so? Where?" he asked.

Gwen rubbed her neck with her hand. "Up north, towards the Elemental Islands; Callistus, to be precise. It turns out Elyan has been residing in Callistus all this time and he has invited me to go back with him."

Being the skeptic that he was, Arthur furrowed his low brow. "Out of the country? That's a long journey, Gwen. It’s also quite dangerous if you are unfamiliar with the territory."

"Well, Elyan made the journey on his own."

"Yes, and he almost died on his way to see you," Arthur responded with more concern than he should have expressed. The other servants in the castle would not be met with as much reluctance by Arthur if they had wished to take leave. "All I'm saying is that you both should make every necessary precaution. You are my friend and I would like to be sure that you come back unharmed."

This was the hard part. "But that's just it, sire,” Gwen said, her voice already failing her. “I'm not even sure I will be coming back."

Arthur initially had trouble deciphering the meaning of her words. "What are you talking about? Of course you'll come back. Why wouldn't you?"

"Elyan has informed me that we have family there and they would very much like to see me finally come home…to where I belong."

Arthur shook his head violently. His heart thumped wildly and his breaths came out in short, exasperated spurts. "No. I don’t believe that for one moment. This is your home. You belong in Camelot."

"Why?" It was a stupid question to ask and would only affirm the very reason why she wished to stay. As much as it might cause her even more pain, Gwen felt a desperate need to hear him say the words anyway.

"Because…because…Camelot needs people like you."

He was skirting around the truth, a truth that she knew in her heart existed. "Why?" she repeated, so softly.

Arthur's whole body was flooding with emotions that he was not ready to unleash. He was so used to suppressing them. "Because I need your instruction and guidance. You already know how much your opinions influence me."

"Why?"

He could hardly hear her now; nothing more than a broken whisper. The light from the one candle Gwen lit did not quite reach her face, but Arthur could still see the glisten of unshed tears in her eyes. It was a rare and beautiful thing to have both this prince and this serving girl so vulnerable and so willing to throw caution to the wind.  Usually one had to be strong for the other.  But desperate times call for desperate actions from a man who had unknowingly given his heart long ago.

"Because, Guinevere, I have never cared for or loved someone so much as you. You are everything to me. Even when we are apart you are still in my head, in my dreams. What I feel for you is so profound that I never want to lose it...or you."

All at once, Gwen’s greatest fears and wildest fantasies were crashing down around her like an avalanche.  It was so wonderful and yet terrible, and could she not just stay frozen in this moment for the rest of her life?  She wanted the happiness but she didn’t want the consequences.

Still, it was overwhelming, and the wonderful feelings took precedence as fresh tears slid down Gwen’s flushed cheeks. It was like beautiful music, hearing those words from his lips.

Arthur found himself instinctively rushing forward and Gwen willingly collapsed into his arms. He pressed her to his chest firmly, afraid of ever letting go. One of his hands weaved through her hair as he kissed the top of her head. "Stay," Arthur pleaded with his eyes shut tight.  “Stay with me.”

 _It could be so easy too_ , she thought. All Gwen had to do was say "okay" and then she would stay in Camelot and be with her beloved forever more.

But then the terrible thoughts clouded her mind again. It wasn't really that easy, was it? It was a very complex situation that involved other people, not just herself and Arthur. So she did everything in her power to remain strong, reluctantly pulling away so their eyes could meet. "Arthur, you once held praise for the passionate devotion I put into certain beliefs. Well, I have a new one now, one that could do so much good for so many people, which is why I must go with Elyan—even though my heart remains here."

His hand slinked forward to cup her delicate cheek. "Why is this journey so important to you?”

“It is rather complicated.” And telling Arthur the whole truth would create even more complications. It was in everyone’s best interest that he remain ignorant of her royal heritage.  “But I am very anxious to learn of my history and see how I might help the troubled people of Callistus. Besides, you seem to be under the impression that my opinions are very influential.”

“Perhaps if I had half your influence, you would not go.”

Gwen sighed, staring at him longingly. “I wish you could understand how painfully my heart despises my own decision.”

He did. And for that reason Arthur latched himself onto Guinevere once more, hungry lips finding solace against hers.

He kissed her once, with the fierce passion of a desperate man. When her mouth started to tremble at his touch, he kissed her again. This time it was soft and achingly in sync with all of Gwen’s nerve endings. His hands still cradled her petite face and while her own hands clutched the front of his tunic so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Another moment to freeze and stay in for eternity.

But that didn’t and couldn’t happen, because the door opened and Elyan walked in.

The interlocked pair quickly disjoined upon noticing Elyan, who remained rooted to the spot—hand on the doorknob and eyes wide with disbelief. Gwen hid the shameful flush in her cheeks by looking down. Arthur, because he had not been long acquainted with Elyan, was worried the young man might run off and tell someone what he just saw. But this was his sister, and Arthur didn’t think Elyan was one to report a scandal if it involved her.  

"Hmmm," Elyan finally said after he got over the initial shock of the scene before him. He searched deftly for something around the belt loops of his trousers. "I must have dropped my hunting blade somewhere down the road. I should probably go look for it." He left and shut the door before his sister and the prince even attempted to explain themselves.

The one positive effect of Elyan's intrusion was that Arthur was no longer charming Gwen with his lips. As much as she craved physical contact with him, she could no longer let these distractions cloud her judgment. Gwen used the pretense of lighting another candle to create more distance between them. When she looked back at Arthur, his eyes were still transfixed on the door. "Do not worry about Elyan. He will not tell a soul what he saw.”

Arthur still looked unconvinced, but at least brought his gaze back to Gwen. "If you are certain, then I believe you. But we need to be more careful. We were lucky that this time it was an ally who caught us, and not one of father’s guards."

Gwen was exhausted by his reluctance to accept the truth. "You talk of ‘this time’ as if there shall be more moments for us to share. My mind is not changed, Arthur. Whatever feelings we may have for each other, it does not give me the right to abandon a promise that I already made."

"Well, if you will not be persuaded," Arthur retaliated in a somewhat disreputable, albeit childish, tone, "then I will have to invoke my right to keep you here, as Crowned Prince of Camelot." He tried in earnest to sound convincing, pulling his shoulders back and suddenly looking the part of royalty.

Gwen was not impressed or intimidated. "What are you going to do? Lock me in the dungeons? Besides, I do not think your father created a law regarding people leaving the premises. He should be happy that I am one less mouth to feed."

Arthur slumped back into his previous demeanor. He clutched Gwen's hand and laced his fingers with her own. "Why are you doing this to me, Guinevere?"

She gave his hand a loving squeeze. "This is not a personal attack on you. I have a duty to my family there and I must honor it. You, of all people, should understand what that's like."

Arthur looked away from her. He was, obviously, familiar with the weight of familial duties. His father reminded him of it daily. "What I don't understand, is why you have to make this a permanent trip. Can't you just fulfill your obligations and then come back again?"

"I never said that it was permanent," she answered, "only that I'm not sure if I will return. It all depends on what happens in Callistus. There could be a better life for me there. It's not as if I have much waiting for me here."

Gwen's words cut like a sharp blade through his heart. Arthur suddenly felt unbelievably foolish for opening himself up so easily to her when she seemed all too willing to toss him aside like dog scraps.

She caught the indignant crease of his eyebrows. "I only mean that all we'll ever have are fleeting glances and stolen kisses in empty corridors. That's not much for me to live my life on. Arthur, you are a prince, for goodness sake! Uther would never allow a match such as we are."

"I can convince him, Guinevere," he interjected hastily. "If we could only get him to talk with you more so he can see for himself how kind and wonderful you are, maybe someday we could be together."

A grimace appeared on Gwen's face. "I'm afraid 'someday' is just a little too far off for me. I can't wait for you any longer. I think it is best this way; for everyone. By going with my brother I can remove the temptation of being around you. And with me out of the way, you can put your attentions on other fine ladies. Eventually, you will fall in love with a princess and you will marry her. We will both be happy where we are."

Arthur shook his head, denying everything that Gwen was trying to believe. "No. That will never happen, because I will never love another. You may choose not to come back, Guinevere, but I will still wait for you—until my last breath."

Gwen could not completely avoid the pitter patter of her heart. She really did love the most noble and stubborn man in the world. She knew as well that any man she might meet in Callistus would have to live up to the standards Arthur had created for her. The odds of that happening were extraordinarily slim.

"When you are king," Gwen said, brushing her fingers against his temple, "maybe things will be different. Maybe I will return to you and we can spend the rest of our lives together. But I cannot make that promise. Only, maybe."

Arthur closed his eyes as Gwen slid her hand slowly down his face and neck, and then over the red tunic that covered his chest, until she reached the spot over his heart. His hand enveloped hers to keep it there. "So, this is our last moment together then?" he asked. "The way Merlin and Morgana were acting toward you earlier makes me believe that you're leaving tomorrow."

"Yes." Gwen was surprised by how well he was accepting this now.

"Guinevere, I do not wish for your last memory of me to be a bad one. If that means wishing you well on your journey, then I will gallantly play my part."

Gwen smiled. She took a step closer, allowing his arms to support her once more. "I think I can safely say that this is one of the happiest memories I've ever had. And I will remember it always."

It was some time before Arthur took his final, painful leave, and when he did, neither of them had the strength to say "goodbye".


	6. Camelot Revisited

The winter was long and unforgiving.  Staying indoors was decreed a necessity, and the good people of Camelot quickly grew bored and restless.  The markets were desolate, most residents having the good sense to stock up on food and supplies the month prior.

As a precaution, the castle windows were boarded up with wooden planks to insulate the building and prevent storm damages.  All of its inhabitants did what they could to make this brutal winter manageable.  Gaius tripled his potion reserve in the fall, knowing full well that the cold, dry air was a known enemy to the human body.  Lady Morgana and King Uther stayed warm by the fire, playing chess and talking of fond memories from her youth.  Merlin took special advantage of the times Arthur did not need him so he could practice spells from his book in the quiet of his room.

As tiresome as this cold and blustery season was, everyone stayed in the comfort of their homes and did what was necessary to survive.

Everyone, except Arthur Pendragon.

It pained Merlin to look through the small crack of his barred up window and often see Arthur training with his sword in the miserable conditions of the ongoing blizzard.  Why did he have to torment himself so incessantly?  Nobody dared spend as much time outside as Arthur did.  Perhaps he looked at the weather as a challenge a true warrior would need to overcome.  Or perhaps his thoughts were still rather preoccupied.

It had been short of two years since that fateful morning Arthur had to watch Guinevere, the love of his life, ride off into the distance from his bedroom window.  As she left, so did his heart; slowly withering and deprived of life until it turned into an insignificant pile of ash.  A part of him considered retrieving his horse and galloping after her.  But he knew she wouldn’t approve of such a reckless, selfish course of action.  Guinevere’s firmness of character was one of the many things he admired about her.

In this prolonged gap of time, many events had altered and reshaped the city of Camelot.  Shortly after Gwen’s departure, a plot of the most villainous sort wreaked havoc on the castle, kidnapping Morgana in its wake.  King Uther gave special attention to the return of his ward, ordering Arthur and his knights to search for more than a year for her until she was eventually recovered amid a deserted camp of bandits.

All seemed overjoyed by her return, none more than Uther.  But she was not as she was before, with only Merlin and Gauis mindful of her suspicious change in character.  How were they supposed to tell their King that his beloved ward was practicing dark magic to take down his kingdom?  They couldn’t.  So they did everything in their power to thwart her efforts discreetly, hoping one day she would slip up and get herself caught.

The attempts on King Uther’s life only escalated after Uther confessed to Gauis in a desperate moment that Morgana was his illegitimate daughter.  Morgana discovered this secret as well and she became possessed by the power of the throne, eradicating anyone that stood in her way.  But she was tactful in her pursuit, ensuring that no one would suspect her hand in the crimes.

Merlin often asked himself what Arthur would do if his magically-gifted servant wasn’t always there to save the day.  He’d probably be dead, and Camelot would very well lay in ruin.  But Merlin would never receive thanks from his prince, because Arthur could never discover the deadly secret that Merlin was hiding.  

Merlin walked the halls toward the front gate, in search of his master.  He could only guess that Arthur was outside perfecting one of his knightly skills, and though the winds had died down significantly now, it was still frigid and intolerable for any normal human being.

Congruent with his thoughts, Merlin found Arthur on the deserted hill; his mace lifted high in the air before he thrust it forcefully into the shielded dummy.  “Arthur,” Merlin said.  Arthur was momentarily startled by his sudden company, which in turn was a discredit to his own abilities as a knight, and he silently punished himself for not being more aware of his surroundings. “I know you’re probably just going to tell me to mind my own business, but don’t you think this is all a bit unnecessary?” 

Arthur pulled the spiked club out of the shield.  “Training is always necessary, Merlin.  I don’t suppose you would understand that, considering you are not a knight and take comfort in cowering behind my back during battle.”

“Now, I have half a notion to resent that comment.  If anything, I cower behind trees and stone walls.”  Merlin never actually trembled at the first sign of trouble.  He rather liked the adventure.  But his only weapon was magic, and in order for Arthur to take no notice of Merin’s potentially life-saving powers, he had to always remain well hidden from him. 

“Go inside, Merlin.  I shall be finished shortly,” the prince commanded. 

However, Merlin was not too keen on obeying his master’s commands.  “I don’t know why you continue doing this to yourself.  If she comes back, she’ll come back.  Why can’t you let it be?”

Arthur searched for another weapon in lieu of his mace.  He refused to look at Merlin.  “In this case, I think I will tell you to mind your own business,” he said, his reproachful tone not one to be ignored.  “Now go inside and draw me a bath.  Keep replenishing it with warm water until I am ready to come in.”  Now he was just being cruel.

“Very well then.”  Putting aside his personal connection with the girl, if there was one thing Merlin missed about Gwen it was that Arthur was certainly kinder when she was around.  Merlin didn’t know how much more of this pathetic self-loathing he could take.  Once he reached the castle doors, Merlin did not walk in the immediate direction of the prince’s chambers.  Instead he went back to his room in search of something.

Pulling up the loose floorboard near his bed and removing the contents that were kept safely hidden there, Merlin riffled through a stack of notes until he reached the one he was looking for.  It was the most recent letter he had received from Gwen.

_Dear Merlin,_

_My hands ache as I write you this letter.  Not just my hands, in truth, it is my whole body that begs for rest._

_King Livius is aware of my presence in Callistus now, so we have built a secret fortress in the nearby woods.  Our numbers grow each week; those who finally wish to stand alongside the leaders of old and fight to protect the homeland they love so dearly.  If I thought we were capable, I would invade Livius’ castle now.  But I know it would be a lost battle.  His forces are strong.  I am determined to do this right._

_Have I told you yet that Lancelot has come to our fair country?  If not, you would think it were an amazing coincidence.  Lancelot had been traveling through Italy when he received word of my royal birth right.  Now he is here and swears his allegiance to me and my people.  We are so blessed to have such a noble man as him serve with us._

_Elyan says hello to both you and Gaius, and wishes you well.  He has been hounding me these last few months about my decision to fight with my men.  I do not care if he does not think war is a place for women, because I will not risk the lives of brave men who look to my leadership if I cannot make the same sacrifice.  There are good people here, some of which already well-equipped for battle.  They are kind in helping me learn their ways._

_That is why I ache so terribly.  I am not used to this strenuous activity, and I now have even more respect for Arthur’s vigilant training._

_How is he, by the way?  No, maybe I do not want to know that.  I do, however, wish him the utmost happiness in whatever he pursues._

_I love and miss everyone dearly.  And do stay out of trouble, Merlin._

_Genuinely Yours,_

_Guinevere Valerius, Princess of Callistus_

_Post Script – Do not inform Arthur of our correspondence_

Gwen had sent three letters over the last two years of her absence.  Each one ended the same way: _do not inform Arthur of our correspondence_.  He only needed to be told once, but he assumed her insistence in the matter was more for her benefit than for his.

This latest letter arrived for him four months ago.  She was consistent in sending word every six months, and he would reply shortly after to inform her about everyone in Camelot.  Merlin never told her about Morgana’s kidnapping though, because he feared it would only worry her.  Now that the lady was back, there was still nothing much to report.  Morgana was now a villain and Arthur pined for Gwen and moped around the castle all day long, but he wasn’t going to tell his friend all of this.  She had enough burdens of her own.

The last letter Merlin sent was almost intercepted by Arthur, who found it strange that Merlin was sending a letter to someone.  Merlin claimed that it was simply for his mother and cleverly disguised its contents with his magic before Arthur could read it.

As Merlin finished reading Gwen’s letter, this being the 8th time over the last several months, he wondered why there had to be so many secrets.  Merlin was practically living a double life, with all of the cloak-and-dagger information he was forced to withhold from certain parties.  It was a constant struggle for him to keep his mouth shut when the one person he spent most of his time with, Arthur, could know none of his secrets. 

“There’s got to be an easier way through all of this,” he thought aloud.  He imagined Arthur standing in front of him as he looked at himself in the mirror.  “Arthur, this may come as a bit of a shock to you but Gwen’s a princess, your half-sister, Morgana, wants to kill you so she can be Queen, and I’m a sorcerer.  But a good one, unlike Morgana.”

Merlin grinned uncomfortably before relaxing his jaw.  “That’s not likely to go well.  I’d be burned at the stake.  Back to keeping my mouth shut, I suppose.”  After putting away his confidential letters, Merlin left his room and went to fetch water for Arthur’s bath.  Spring could not come soon enough.

 

And what a bountiful spring it was.  Flowers began blooming, crops were ready to be harvested just as the remaining stock from winter dissipated, and Lady Morgana found it easier to formulate her assassination plots for the two Pendragons that blocked her path to the throne.  Now that people were free to roam to and from the castle whenever they pleased, she did not feel as many disconcerting eyes upon her.

Arthur was still an unpleasant sod.  The first royal visitors of the new season included the company of Princess Elena, of whom Uther expressed a sincere interest in forming an alliance.  Arthur, however, would not give this betrothal a passing glance.  He was civil to her and the rest of their guests, but from the moment he laid eyes on Elena he knew she could never affect his heart as profoundly as Guinevere had.  She may have given her consent for him to marry another, but that thought would never be entertained.  Not for a moment.

Meanwhile, Merlin had been extremely anxious for the last few weeks.  Gwen’s six-month letter had not yet arrived.  She was so punctual about this before that it frightened him to no end.  Anything could have happened.  The messenger might not have been able to make the long journey.  Gwen could have been kidnapped.  She could even be dead already. 

Merlin shook his head, trying not to think of the worst possible scenarios.  She is a leader, after all, and it could very well be that her training and recruitments have just kept her too busy to write.  _Yes, that must be it_ , he thought.

Nevertheless, Merlin went out every morning to reach the post before anyone else received it.  He was desperate to get some sort of reply from her.  He even thought about writing to her himself to gage some sort of response from her.  But even then, it would take weeks to receive any word from Callistus.

Gaius’s insistence that ‘patience was a virtue’ did not ease Merlin’s troubles.  He had stressed himself out to the point where sleep was almost impossible.  As a resolution, Gaius made Merlin take a strong sleeping draught, under the pretense that it was just a potion to calm the nerves.

He passed out for the next 17 hours.

When Merlin awoke he felt more refreshed than he had been in a long time.  But the late hour confused him.  He rushed out of his room to find Gaius crushing herbs at the table.  “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Merlin’s mouth tasted like cotton.  “You drugged me, didn’t you?”

“I only did what was necessary.”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said with a harsh look, “but tricking me into drinking a sleeping potion is completely unnecessary.  How long have I been out, anyway?  I bet Arthur’s furious with me that I haven’t shown up to his chambers yet.”

Gaius nodded to amuse himself.  “He did have some unkind words for you when he stopped by this morning, but I told him you ate spoilt food last night and needed to rest a while.”

“Well, at least you didn’t say I was in the taverns again.”  Merlin then remembered the reason why he had been so restless before.  “The mail!  I didn’t check it this morning.  What if Gwen finally sent something and Arthur saw it?  Maybe I got lucky and it didn’t arrive today.  Although, I guess that’s not really lucky since she should have sent word by now.”

And all too soon Merlin’s composure vanished. 

Gaius got up from his table to retrieve a folded piece of paper on his desk.  “I told you,” the physician said in a studious manner, “that patience would show you the path you desire.  How interesting that the morning you do not rush to retrieve the mail, a letter arrives for you.”

He handed the note to Merlin.  It was in Gwen’s writing.  The relief that washed over Merlin’s features was explicit.  He felt as if newly revitalized oxygen found its way into his lungs and it was incredibly comforting.  She was alive.  Or at least she was when this letter was sent.  It was still more news than he had before.

“By the way,” Merlin said, looking up at the old man in disbelief, “I’m fairly certain it’s not ‘patience’ if the person is medically inhibited.”

Gaius only shrugged before returning to his herbs.

Merlin pealed off the wax seal and opened the letter vigorously.  He read it silently to himself first, before telling Gaius of Gwen’s news.

 

_Dear Merlin,_

_I am sorry that this letter comes to you so late.  Much has happened since our last exchange and I have been furiously trying to work out a plan of action before I decided to write you.  You told me before I left that if I needed your help, I should only ask for it.  I am calling upon your favor now._

_Elyan, myself, and a group of my most loyal soldiers will be coming to Camelot shortly.  We may even arrive as soon as a week after you receive this, which is why your favor is vitally important to me._

_Our visit should not be long, if what we are searching for is actually there, and I do not want to confuse Arthur with my presence.  Therefore, if there is any way Arthur can leave Camelot during my stay, I would be forever in your debt._

_You probably think I’m childish for asking this of you, but I know our feelings for each other will only be a distraction.  There are also too many questions that I’m not prepared to give him answers to just yet.  As I am only returning to Camelot on business, I would rather not have to see him there._

_Dear friend, please say that you understand and will help me with this task.  I will send another message the day before I arrive to give you time to arrange it._

_With the Deepest Respect,_

_Guinevere Valerius, Princess of Callistus_

This was highly unexpected.  Merlin remembered with perfect clarity saying to Gwen that he would help her in any way he could…but could he do this?  It seemed cruel to restrict Arthur from seeing the one person he lost sleep over night after night.  Didn’t he deserve to see her again and know the whole truth?

However, he did sympathize with Gwen’s plight.  If she was only coming here to see Uther, and then planned on returning back to her country after this objective was complete, why should these forbidden lovers be forced to glimpse at each other when they have spent so much time apart trying to move on?

Well, Arthur wasn’t really doing a great job getting over Gwen as of late, but eventually it could happen.  And if he were to see here again, he may have to go through his moping process all over again.  Merlin was not willing to risk that as a possibility.

“Gaius,” Merlin called, inviting a third party perspective, “in your opinion, what would be the easiest way to get Arthur to leave the castle for a day?”


	7. Far From the Southern Crowd

“An ogre?” Arthur scoffed.  “Are you sure that’s what you saw, Merlin?”

Merlin rocked on the heels of his feet.  “As certain as my limited knowledge allows me to be.  Looks like a giant, except uglier and entirely stupid; gives the impression that it wants to tear you from limb to limb.  Does that fit the description?”

“Well, as strange as an ogre finding refuge in Camelot sounds,” Arthur said, “we cannot risk the chance that this creature might reach the city walls.  I’ll assemble a small unit of knights to search the woods in the morning.”

Merlin scratched the back of his head, nervous that his plan had already backfired.  “Uh, you’re not going after it yourself, sire?”

Arthur shrugged.  “Why should I?  One ogre is easy game to hunt.  You said it yourself, they’re stupid.  My efforts would surely be wasted, as there always seems to be more pressing matters in Camelot.”

“But…but don’t you think that says something about your character, Arthur?”  Merlin was struggling to find an angle that would convince Arthur to go.  “I mean, sending your men to do the dirty work?  I think it would be a more noble gesture if you went to destroy the beast yourself—with my help, of course.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call what you do ‘help’,” Arthur said with a look of reproach.  “ _The help_ , perhaps, but even then I question your polishing skills. And anyway, I don’t know why you’ve chosen to personally attack my abilities as a soldier.  I have slain many creatures of magic, and without the aid of my knights.  I could certainly kill this Ogre single-handedly if necessary.”  Merlin’s accusations were slowly wearing him down. 

The young sorcerer put his hands up in (mock) defeat.  “Of course, you can.  I wouldn’t doubt it.  Especially since you trained all winter long while your knights rested safely in the castle.  For all we know, they are the ones unfit to face this beast.”

There was a long pause.  Arthur gave this idea more thought than he originally planned.  Merlin knew the Prince had a weakness for vanity, and that he would grasp at any chance to showcase his strengths in protection of his people.  This attribute was probably inherited from his father, though the cause was his own.

“Then it’s settled.  We will leave at dawn.  Although, I want to make it perfectly clear that I’m only taking you with because you were the one who claimed to have seen this ogre.”

“You mean, you don’t wish to take advantage of my exceptional fighting abilities?” Merlin asked with a sarcastic grin as he plunged at the empty space in front of him to mimic one of Arthur’s many heroic battle stances.

Arthur lightly chuckled before turning back to his duties.  “Absolutely not.  You’d get yourself killed before you could as much as lay a finger on it.”

Merlin nodded wordlessly, keeping up this powerless pretense for Arthur’s benefit.  Little did the famous Pendragon know that no ogre was to be found.  The wild goose chase would, hopefully, be a long enough distraction while Gwen was in town.  Unfortunately, this also meant that Merlin would miss her as well.

 

 

Uthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, sat on his throne with all of the proper graces of royalty pulsing through his bones as Princess Guinevere and her company approached.

She, however, looked nothing like a princess of high regard and importance should, Uther easily noted.  Gwen was not dressed in brightly colored garb made of silk that would flow down to the floor as women like Lady Morgana wore.  On the contrary, she looked almost like the peasant she used to be—with a few minor adjustments.  Her hair was tightly pulled back in a French braid to prevent the curly tendrils from whipping freely against her face.  Her clothes were masculine, a leather vest tied about her waist accompanied by a pair of knee-high boots that were dirty and had clearly seen much use.  A sword lay attached to her belt and her piercing eyes searched for truth instead of kind remarks. 

She looked like a warrior.

It was somewhat of a relief that King Uther did not acquaint himself enough with Gwen when she was just a servant, for the situation before him would be even more puzzling.  To him, she was just a battered princess that was probably on the verge of war and seeking his allegiance—as many kingdoms often looked to Camelot for aid.

“My humblest apologies, your highness, for not sending word of my presence sooner,” Guinevere said with a polite bow.  “Camelot is but a long journey from Callistus and we were forced to act fast as it was.”

Uther stood and moved toward Guinevere.  “You are most welcome, Princess.  No apologies are needed.  Although, I must say, I was surprised to hear of your existence.  I was told the well-respected Valerius line had all but fallen some years ago.”

“That was the general consensus.  Our claim to the Valerius family was kept hidden for undisclosed purposes.  But now my brother, Prince Elyan,” Guinevere said gesturing to the man beside her, “and myself are prepared to take back the throne that is rightfully ours.”

 

 

“Merlin, where exactly are we?” 

Merlin pretended not to know the answer as Arthur walked behind him, practically dragging his feet by this stage of their quest.  They had been searching the outer grounds for nearly seven hours.

Arthur continued to question this rather tiresome journey.  “Our pursuits have been fruitless and I’ve seen no indication that an ogre has been present in these parts.  And I thought you said you saw the ogre in the Forests of Balor?”

“I did,” Merlin replied tersely.

“Well, I should think it were obvious to you that we are no longer in the forest.”  They both paused to take in the expansive rye field that they were smack dab in the middle of.  The nearest tree was at least a mile off.

Merlin laughed sheepishly, thinking it would excuse his mistake.  “Huh.  I guess we’re not.”  Arthur glared at his incompetent manservant, clearly winding up to verbally abuse him, but Merlin let out a hasty protest.  “But, you know, we can’t just look in the spot that I saw the creature because that was two days ago and it could be a long ways away by now.  We really should search all the surrounding areas if we hope to ever find it.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and found his patience hanging on by a very thin thread.  “Remind me again, Merlin, why we couldn’t do this on horseback?”

“That is simple enough,” Merlin said, grinning like a goofy child.  “Hooves.  As stupid as ogres are, if they hear the clickity-clack of the horses’ hooves, it might run off before we even have a chance to find it.”

Arthur creased his eyebrows together.  “Somehow, I highly doubt that.”

Merlin was running out of legitimate excuses.  “Well, you always say that you like a challenge, right?”

“Not at the expense of losing an entire day to this odious task,” Arthur barked, entirely fed up with the whole ogre situation.  “This is what I get for taking advice from a servant.”

“Aw,” Merlin said before punching Arthur playfully in the arm, “still denying the obvious friendship thing we’ve got going on, I see.  I get it.  It’s not enough that we banter, then you throw something at me, and after which both of us laugh about it.  No. Apparently, friends mean something entirely different to you.”

Arthur didn’t have a response for Merlin’s assessment of their relationship.  He knew there was something more to their prince-servant pairing.  He liked Merlin, sometimes, and their adventures together were entertaining, to a certain extent.  But Arthur wasn’t one to openly admit that he was bonding with the person who brought him his meals and polished his shoes.  It was just as absurd as…

Well, a prince falling in love with a servant girl.

Dear god, how he missed her.  Her absence was like a dull ache that resided deep underneath his skin, gnawing until it would eventually leave him numb and void of the heart-wrenching pain that started it all.  He had never felt as weak as he had been in the last two years, and he knew others had noticed this change in him.  But how was he supposed to forget her?  How could he act like everything was fine when it wasn’t?  Whether she believed it or not, she was his undoing.

Arthur came back from his momentary excursion into the recesses of his mind.  He caught Merlin quietly staring at him, concern written all over his face.  Arthur, however, was determined to avoid having that conversation, with him or anyone else for that matter.  “I’ve had enough.  We’re going back.”

“But we haven’t found the ogre yet,” Merlin said, his eyes wide with trepidation.  The day had barely passed and he sensed that Gwen was still in Camelot.

“I don’t care.  If it shows up again, we can deal with it then.  This trip has been useless and I am tired.  If we head east we should be back in Camelot in less than two hours.”

Merlin tried to object, but Arthur was the prince, and what he says, goes.

 

 

“I understand the troubles your people are facing, Princess Guinevere, but if you are asking for Camelot’s help in issuing an attack, I’m afraid I do not have knights to spare.  We all have our own misfortunes to conquer at present.”

Sometimes it was difficult for Gwen to even look King Uther directly in the eye.  He was still selfish in his actions, exactly how she remembered him the last time she was in Camelot, and he poured out his excuses so unsympathetically.  Almost as if it was rehearsed.

 “I have no doubt of that, your highness,” Gwen said with a kind smile, as forced as it was, “and I do not wish to burden you in that respect.  The real reason that brings me here today involves a sword.  I was told that Camelot has in its possession a sword that could be of use to the people of Callistus, and with your permission, I would very much like to borrow it.”

Uther looked completely bewildered.  “A sword?  I did not know such a weapon was capable of single-handedly aiding a country.”

“It seemed strange to me as well, but even if there is a little bit of truth in the abilities of this mysterious sword, I am willing to do anything to retrieve it.  I ask for my people, King Uther, and not for myself.”  Gwen pleaded with the King, her eyes imploring and dark.

“How am I to distinguish this particular sword from all the others?” Uther asked, willing to help as long as it was merely a small gesture such as this. (Although a powerful sword may be something he would want to keep in his possession.)

Gwen smiled, genuinely this time.  “It is called Excalibur.  It is said to be the greatest sword ever forged and has a brilliant gold handle.  It can also be recognized by the images of dragons engraved on the hilt.”

Uther thought extensively about this description.  He then placed a comforting hand on Gwen’s shoulder, though she considered the gesture rather offensive and off-putting.  “I wish I could be of service to you, Princess, but of the many fine swords Camelot has in its ownership, unfortunately, none hold the power you have illustrated.  Excalibur is not a name known in this kingdom.”

“I must say, that I am little shocked by your response,” Gwen admitted with a blank stare.  “I was informed with almost deliberate certainty that the object was here in Camelot.  I do not know where else to search for it.”

With only slight hesitation, King Uther opted to give this obscure princess the opportunity she so desperately desired.  In truth, he did not particularly care for her, but he assumed it was because he did not know her well.  She was very inexperienced in her position of royalty, but perhaps if she were to stay for a short while he could have Morgana teach her a few things about refined living. 

“If your informant truly claims that it is here, there is the possibility this sword, Excalibur as you say, could be somewhere hidden under my very nose.  I do not pretend, after all, to know everything about my people.”  He gave Gwen a knowing glance, as if she could relate to his position.  However, Gwen felt the urge to contrarily boast about her knowledge of the people of Callistus, because she had actually taken the time to get to know each of them on a personal level.  But she restrained herself.

Uther continued.  “Therefore, allow me to extend my welcome to you.  I give you my full permission to search as much of Camelot as you are able, and you and your guests may stay here in the castle.  We have more than enough room.”

Gwen paused in her response to Uther’s offer.  It was rather unexpected, hearing these words directly from his mouth, for she remembered him not long ago as the uncivil ruler who put his self-interests above others.  Of course, before, she was just a servant.  Her elevated position in society probably had an effect on his decision.

But never mind the why.  More importantly, Gwen pondered how she could successfully accomplish this task.  Callistus was short on time already.  King Livius was almost certainly aware of the impending attack on his kingdom and this could very well cost them the element of surprise.  But her  _informant_  specifically told her that without the sword she would not prevail.  Perhaps Gwen could spare a week or two to search the grounds and ask the townspeople of Camelot if they have any knowledge of Excalibur.

And then the biggest obstacle of all seemed to thrust into her chest like a ton of stones.  Arthur.

She had put so much effort into asking Merlin to lie, to distract Arthur while she was in Camelot, but it was all for not.  There was no easy way to avoid his presence while staying in his castle for the span of a week (or more).  The charade would be abandoned and Gwen would, therefore, have to partake in the most uncomfortable conversation of her life—with Arthur.  She wasn’t entirely sure how he would take the news of her being in town, let alone the fact that she was now a princess.  The thought was suffocating and filled her hallow chest with a bit of trepidation and a lot of anguish.

 _But it had to be done_ , she reminded herself before finally answering King Uther’s proposal.  “Your highness, you are truly magnanimous.  We would be very grateful for the opportunity to pursue the sword and become more acquainted with you and your kingdom.”

“Then it is settled,” Uther said with his arms raised in delight.  “You are now Camelot’s guests.  And as our guests, it is customary to hold a banquet in your honor, which shall commence this evening.”

The last thing Gwen needed was to make a grand spectacle of her visit.  But Arthur was going to find out eventually, so she supposed it really didn’t matter now.  “How wonderful.  We look forward to it.”

Gwen and her company excused themselves from the throne room to retrieve their belongings that remained outside with the horses. 

Unfortunately, it was at this time that Prince Arthur and Merlin were returning from their futile ogre quest.

“Oh god,” were the only stifled words that breathed across Gwen’s newly moistened lips as Arthur drew nearer and nearer.  They were some yards away still so he hadn’t recognized her yet.  Merlin had seen her though and she could tell he was still trying to convince Arthur to turn back.  A faint smile cracked her features, allowing her apprehension to temporarily subside.  Merlin was such a loyal friend.

As Arthur chose to ignore whatever asinine excuse his dimwitted servant came up with to go back and search for the ogre, he fixed his gaze upon the stone staircase that led to the main doors of his castle.  A small group of people in combat attire were descending the staircase.  “I did not know father had guests today,” Arthur commented off-handedly to Merlin.

What surprised Arthur most was not that he was unaware of soldiers coming to Camelot, but that the soldiers seemed to have been led by a woman.  It was strange to him.  He never realized a woman could look so attractive in such masculine garments.  Normally they wore fancy dresses and gold jewelry, but he was pleasantly intrigued by this innovative look.

Upon closer inspection, however, Arthur realized that he, indeed, knew this woman—for he could never forget her face, or her hair, or the gentle curve of her hips.  “Merlin, please tell me your seeing what I’m seeing right now.”

“It depends on what you claim to see,” Merlin replied with a long sigh as he hung his head low.  He had failed Gwen and felt utterly disappointed in himself.

Arthur didn’t dare speak the words.  He was afraid that once he spoke her name, she would disappear like a mirage.  So instead he inched closer, hypnotized by the figure before him, treading carefully in case he should make the wrong move and scare her away.

What took a few minutes to accomplish, felt like a lifetime in the making.  How did they get to this point?  What should he say to her first?  So many questions swam eagerly in Arthur’s head and he couldn’t deem one more important than the other.  He wanted to say it all.  But would he get the chance?

Gwen was no stranger to the exhilarating yet terrifying heartbeat that seemed to reach out for her other half.  She thought she would want to postpone this moment for as long as possible, but now that he was here and so close she could almost touch the reality of his presence, nothing could drag her away from this spot.  She wanted to hear his voice and watch his soft lips move with every syllable.

And now it came down to who would speak first.  Who dared to break the spine tingling sensation that these former lovers felt in anticipation of their long-awaited reunion?

“Gwen!  Oh my gosh!  What an utterly unexpected surprise…but a wonderful one, of course.”

Merlin.

Arthur and Guinevere broke their intent gazes to look at their absent-minded, large-eared friend.  He was not trying to be a very convincing liar at present—especially for someone who had been keeping a few rather important secrets for years.

Gwen found her voice first.  “It’s okay, Merlin.  I don’t think I’ll be leaving Camelot as soon as I originally planned.”  She flung her arms around Merlin’s neck, remembering how long it had been since she last saw him in the flesh.  “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again.”

Merlin smiled widely, but with a hint of sympathy in his eyes.  “I can say without a doubt that you were truly missed here.”

Gwen’s gaze then returned to Arthur.  He was consciously aware of their cordial exchange—as if this might have been an on-going occurrence—but he was not distressed enough to ruin this precious moment that he was given with Gwen.

“How are you, Guinevere?” Arthur eventually found the courage to ask.  He was careful not to let any emotion appear on his face because they were not yet alone.  Aside from Merlin, Gwen’s traveling companions were also close behind and seemed somewhat interested in their communication.

Though he didn’t outwardly show it, Gwen could hear the soft tremble in his voice.  It broke her heart to know that she was the cause of this pain and confusion.  “I am well.”  No she wasn’t, but lying was so much easier.

“That’s,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat, “that’s good.  I’m glad to hear it. 

He needed to get away from this public courtyard.  He envisioned himself grabbing Guinevere’s hand and hauling her off to an empty room somewhere so he could freely say all he wanted to say.  All of these watchful eyes seemed to judge him, constricting his throat and making him exceptionally uneasy.

Gwen had trouble thinking of what to say next, which prompted Arthur to lead the line of questioning.  “What, uh, brings you back to Camelot?  Callistus is a great distance from here, if I do recall correctly.”

“Indeed it is,” Gwen said, letting this thought sink deep into her mind.  “Elyan and I are…on a particular quest and your father was gracious enough to let us stay until we complete it.”

Elyan approached the small group at the mention of his name. 

“Hello, Elyan,” Merlin said shaking the man’s hand warmly.  “How are you?  More importantly, how does it feel to be a married man?”  Gwen had written in one of her previous letters that her brother and Lady Aelia had recently married at a private ceremony.

Elyan smiled fondly.  “Never better, my friend.  Love is certainly a powerful motivator.” 

Gwen was anxious to change the subject, seeing the confusion on Arthur’s face grow.  “King Uther wishes to throw a banquet for us this evening, Arthur.  It would be wise for us to unpack our belongings before then.  I do…that is, I do hope we can talk more later.”  She reached for his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, the meaningful look in her eyes telling him that they certainly had a lot to discuss and she would make it all clear very soon.

The gentle touch of her soft skin created this sensation that slowly crawled up his spine. It was warm and feather light, and he wanted to wrap himself in this feeling forever.  He didn’t want her to let go, but she did, and hastily made a move to retrieve her bags.

“Let me help you with your things, Princess,” Merlin said before rushing over to the horses, unaware of his accidental slip of the tongue.

But the remark momentarily escaped Arthur’s notice as he glanced over Gwen’s shoulder and recognized a member of her company that he did not discover before.  Someone they all knew very well.  “What’s he doing here?”


	8. The Feast and the Fury

The interior of Arthur’s chambers was silent and still.  If Arthur had not placed himself in the chair directly in the center of the room, one might have assumed this part of the castle was uninhabited.  But this was exactly where he had been for the last hour, sinking low in his seat and creating a mold of his heavy head into the rough skin of his palm.  The hushed surroundings allowed him to reflect on his searing and all-too-stifling thoughts. 

He should have been grateful that Gwen had finally told him the truth, but there were still so many questions to be answered.  For starters, why was Merlin, of all people, entrusted with her secret?  _Why did she not want to tell me?_ He felt somehow cheated by her, the woman who previously claimed to have loved him.

The elaborate feast that the castle was preparing for their new guests was to commence at 8 o’clock, which gave him little time for Arthur to change into his royal robes.  The dirt and sweat collected from his earlier excursion still lingered on his skin, and considering the absence of sunlight on his window, there was probably little chance of him getting a proper bath before his attendance at the banquet was requested.

Merlin should have been here by now, helping Arthur prepare for said banquet.  Perhaps his loyal (though he rarely chose to admit it) manservant felt he needed time alone to process this course of events.  There was a lot to consider.

As if on cue, the door was heaved open and Merlin’s face popped into view.  He looked at the state of the Prince, complacent in his lounged position with probably very little intent in extracting himself from the large chair.  Arthur didn’t even acknowledge Merlin’s presence.  His gaze was transfixed, though nothing but a stone wall and floating dust particles located itself in his line of sight. Merlin had a funny feeling this was not going to be an easy journey for any of them.

“What are you doing?” Merlin voiced with a hint of exasperation, by now accustom to unabashedly raising his voice at a crowned prince.  What was the worst Arthur would do to him?  “Your father, as well as everyone else, expects you to be at this dinner.  And you still smell like a farm animal! I prepared hot water for you an hour ago!”

Arthur let out a long and languid breath, his thoughts still rather preoccupied.  “Why do you think she did not tell me, Merlin?”

Merlin ignored his question, instead grabbing clothes from the armoire and shoving them on Arthur’s lap.  “This has to be the first time you’ve ever smelt worse than I do.   There’s certainly no time for a bath.  You’ll just have to rub a wet cloth over yourself before you put those clean clothes on.  Honestly, I’m embarrassed to even be seen with you right now.”

“I mean, a princess.  She’s a bloody princess!  And not just any princess, for even I have heard of the highly revered Valerius family.  Guinevere’s a perfect fit for their people.”  They were having two completely separate conversations, each stubborn in their pursuit for something.  Arthur wanted more answers, and Merlin just wanted Arthur to not present himself as a stable boy at court.

“Will you please do something to get rid of this smell?   As often as I’ve imagined our roles reversed, this is simply not the way to go about doing it.”

Arthur finally looked up at his manservant.  “I’m serious, Merlin.  Why was I kept in the dark?  Did she not think I would understand?”  The honest and wounded inflections in his voice had Merlin comparing his prince to an abandoned, helpless child.

“Listen,” Merlin said with a heavy sigh, momentarily putting aside his efforts to sterilize Arthur, “I’m not Gwen, so obviously I can’t speak for her, but there is a part of me that understands where she’s coming from.  Sometimes life is just easier keeping certain secrets.  She must have thought that the less you knew the better.  Gwen must have assumed she would never see you again.”

“But it’s almost as if she thought I would not be glad of this discovery,” Arthur said rapidly.  “In some ways, this could be seen as a blessing.  For instance, now I can tell my father that I’m in love with a princess, and not just a servant.”

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Arthur.” Merlin dipped a small rag into the Prince’s lukewarm bathwater.  “But Gwen is apparently staying in Camelot for at least a few days, so maybe you’ll get another chance to tell her how you really feel about this whole situation.”

Arthur jerked his head back incredulously.  “How I really feel?  What’s that supposed to mean, Merlin?  Are you claiming to be some all-knowing sorcerer who can interpret my emotions?”

“I don’t need to be a sorcerer to know how you felt about Gwen’s departure.  You’ve been moping around the castle for the last two years like a bird with clipped wings.”  As Arthur’s accusation of Merlin using sorcery was unfounded, Merlin was able to disguise his trepidations easily.  He knew it was only a jest, as it would take a lot more evidence to convince Arthur of that fact.

Arthur glared.  “Well, maybe it wouldn’t have been necessary for me to infect everyone with my melancholy disposition if you would have had the decency to share your privileged information with me!”  The volume of Arthur’s voice increased as he rose out of his chair to snatch the wet cloth from Merlin’s hand.  “That’s right!  Guinevere told me all about your secret correspondence with her and how you knew she was a princess all along.  I should have you flogged for your insolence!”

“That’s not really fair, now is it?” Merlin asked, cautious of whether Arthur was serious or not.  The fierce look in his eye made Merlin believe the former.  “I mean, Gwen made me promise not to say a word to you.  Believe me, I wanted to tell you.  It would have probably benefited the whole kingdom if she only allowed me to show you those letters.”

Arthur shook his head.  He knew he was only projecting his own afflictions onto Merlin. It wasn’t really the boy’s fault.  In truth, he rather admired Merlin’s allegiance to Guinevere.  It almost made him feel like he chose the right girl to fall in love with.  Almost. 

“Leave me.  I’ll prepare for the banquet on my own,” Arthur demanded.  Merlin pursed his lips and stared at the prince skeptically.  “I promise.  I will get ready this time.  I’ll meet you downstairs in a quarter of an hour.”

“As you wish, sire.”  Merlin left the prince to his solitude once again.

As promised, Arthur washed the dirt off of his face and arms and changed into a fresh pair of clothes.  Red was always such a good color on him; the deep hue of the robes softening the subtle tan of his skin and making his large blue eyes stand out like ocean waves.  He was finally starting to resemble a crowned prince again.  _Maybe there’s still time to win her back after all_ , Arthur thought, staring at his prim and proper reflection in the mirror.  _Maybe this is the second chance I’ve been waiting for._

 

 

The large banquet hall was lit with candles from wall to wall, providing a soft glow to the already spirited atmosphere.  The food was gratifying, the mead was abundant, and Camelot’s guests from the south were finally given a chance to feel at ease.  Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Gwen had been eagerly occupying her time with Morgana—of which King Uther thought was due to his instruction.  She missed her lady dearly and thought it was strange that Morgana was the one person Merlin never spoke of in his letters.

“I just can’t believe all that has transpired, Gwen.  Or should I say, Princess Guinevere.”  Morgana smiled girlishly.

“Oh, don’t bother with formalities with me, Morgana,” Gwen said.  “I am still the same girl you knew before, just with a bit more worldly experience…and a title.  But my tale is boring and full of hard labor, how have you been?”

Morgana detested being asked that question, because, especially now, she didn’t know how to answer it without lying through her teeth.  “I’ve been great.  You know, the usual.”

Gwen chuckled at Morgana’s response.  “No, actually, I don’t know.  Merlin always forgot to mention you during our correspondence.  Any new love interests?  Or maybe an exciting adventure that I missed out on?”

“Well, I was kidnapped.”  Morgana heard herself speak the words before she realized what she was actually confessing.

Gwen’s brow furrowed out of concern as she reached for her friend.  “What?  Oh my goodness, Morgana.  Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine now.  It was many months ago,” she said.  Morgana didn’t know why she felt so compelled to tell her old handmaiden of her story.  Not the whole story, of course.  As much as Morgana still cared for Gwen, she knew she couldn’t share her dark secret with anyone.  Merlin already knew, and he made it a habit of staring daggers at her every chance he got.  She felt Gwen would also find it difficult to understand her new motives concerning Camelot.  “Lady Morgause used me in a plot to destroy Uther, but I was lucky that they did not give up their search and eventually Arthur rescued me.”

Gwen’s gaze scanned down the table to where Arthur was sitting.  He was staring right at her, as if his eyes had been unflinchingly glued to the spot for ages.  It was slightly unnerving, even though a small part of her liked and missed holding his attentions.  She silently cursed herself for not trying harder to rid him of her thoughts; those thoughts of his beautifully bright eyes and well-formed physique that plagued her dreams every night in Callistus.

Gwen returned her gaze (and thoughts) back to her conversation with Lady Morgana.  “That woman seems to be causing Camelot a lot of trouble.  But I’m glad you’re safe now.  Maybe it was best that Merlin did not tell me this news, otherwise I would have been dreadfully worried about you.”

Morgana felt a small ache in her heart, as if a blunt dagger tried to clumsily pierce it.  This was the first time since returning to Camelot that Morgana faltered in her belief that she was doing the right thing.  She could never willingly hurt Gwen.  But then she remembered that her maidservant was now actually a princess from another land.  Camelot’s fate should hopefully have no effect on her now.  Well, except in the case of Arthur.

“I’m ready for a new topic of conversation,” Morgana said with a determined smile.  “Have you had a chance to talk with Arthur yet?  I’m sure he’s anxious to get you alone.”

Gwen quickly looked down at the folded hands in her lap.  Why did she still have to blush at every mention of his name?  When she answered, her voice was small and timid.  “I did meet with him briefly this afternoon.  I wanted to be the one to tell him of my newfound royalty before he found out from someone else.”

Morgana was impatient for the juicy details of their reunion.  “And?”  Gwen gave her friend a bewildered look.  “What?  No chaste kiss behind the garden wall?  No loving embrace and promise to never leave each other’s side again?”

“I’m sorry to disappoint, Morgana, but my feelings for Arthur are in the past,” Gwen stated, shifting in her chair uneasily.  “I have responsibilities now and people to take care of.  The last thing I need is to involve myself frivolously with a man from a distant kingdom.  After my mission is complete I do not think I will have any reason to return to Camelot.”

“You sound so grown up.  These admirable traits, I am sure, would make anyone want to kneel before you.  I envy your level-headed thinking.”  As it was, Morgana was glad of Gwen’s decision.  She encouraged a relationship between Arthur and Gwen before, but things were very different now.  It took her long enough to see Arthur as her enemy.  She didn’t know if she could ever feel the same about Gwen.  The girl may have been a comfort to Morgana, but to tell the truth, she couldn’t wait until Gwen was out of the crossfires of her war with the Pendragons.  “How long shall you be visiting us, Gwen?”

“Not long, I hope,” she breathed almost tiresomely.  “I am needed back at home, so I should like to depart as soon as I’ve found what I’ve come here for.  In fact, now is as good a time as any to ask Arthur what he knows of this sword.  To be continued?”  Morgana nodded with a sweet (and surprisingly sincere) smile before Gwen pushed out of her chair and walked to the other side of the table.

Meanwhile, Arthur was not in the right disposition to socialize.  If he wasn’t gazing longingly at Guinevere as he gulped heartily from his goblet, he was staring daggers at the seemingly ‘charming’ man three seats away.

Lancelot du Lac was once a prisoner of these walls, but King Uther decided to pardon his transgressions since he was now considered a nobleman of Callistus and a loyal knight to Princess Guinevere.  The man with dark, shaggy hair was full of mirth as he talked with his companions, and he occasionally, as Arthur observed, stole glances toward the princess herself.

It tore his insides apart.

It was strange for Arthur to think that he once considered Lancelot his friend.  Arthur knew before that the man in question also harbored feelings for Gwen, but at least Lancelot did the honorable thing and chose to respectfully bow out for Arthur’s sake.  Now Lancelot was just mocking him.

During the time Arthur had not seen Gwen, Lancelot cunningly maneuvered his way into her company, regaining her trust.  Arthur now only had cause to loathe the man.

“It’s very suspicious that he happened upon Guinevere in her country,” Arthur stammered, unsure if he was talking to himself or someone in particular.  “Almost as if he had been following her the whole time.”

Merlin appeared behind Arthur’s shoulder to refill his goblet.  “Who are we talking about?”

Arthur shook his head wildly.  With no one of interest to occupy him with conversation, Arthur chose to occupy his mouth with mead.  “What do you mean, who?  Lancelot, of course.  I mean, he has the nerve to call himself ‘sir’ all of a sudden.”

“That’s because he is a knight now,” Merlin replied, slow enough this time so that the words might actually sink into Arthur’s thick skull.  “But seriously, Arthur, I think you should give up this whole ‘I hate Lancelot’ mantra because he’s only trying to be her friend.  If I could leave Camelot, I would help Gwen in a heartbeat.  Many feel this way.”

Arthur contorted his features in a rather bizarre manner.  “Why do you think you cannot leave Camelot?  It seemed an easy enough task for Guinevere.”

Merlin pondered this question momentarily.  He couldn’t necessarily tell the prince that the last great dragon said it was his destiny to protect Arthur and unite the lands of Albion.  That would be a messy situation, indeed.  So Merlin conjured up a convincing excuse.  “Because, apart from my impeccable skills as a servant, you’d be bored to death if I was not around.”

Well, convincing enough, given Arthur’s growing state of inebriation.

“Impeccable,” Arthur repeated with a short laugh.  “Even when the only requirement to serve a royal family is the ability to follow instructions, you still manage to muck it all up somehow.  Probably because you lack the most basic and essential skill of all: common sense.”

The fact that Arthur chose not to argue against the second part of Merlin’s answer, made the serving boy grin from ear to ear.  It was rare moments like these when Arthur found himself indirectly admitting his friendship with Merlin.  Of course, Merlin was not one to rub it in the Prince’s face, for it might ruin the moment altogether if Merlin wound up in the stocks with the pulp from rotten tomatoes sliding down his cheeks.

“When are you going to stop picking on him, Arthur?” Gwen voiced, appearing from the other side of Arthur’s chair, having caught the gist of their playful banter.  Arthur hoped she hadn’t been standing by long enough to hear him chastise Lancelot mercilessly.  “It’s a wonder to me why you both haven’t realized how much you need one another.”

_I need you_ , Arthur thought while taking in the elegant way Guinevere presented herself.  She was no longer in her warrior garments, but instead a full-bodice purple gown with gold trim.  Her foot-long train swept across the floor as if claiming the whole space around it.  Her dark curls were loosely draped across her shoulders and neck.  Arthur was enchanted, but still a bit slighted, so he turned away from her and viciously gulped down every last drop from his silver cup.

Merlin felt his ears twitch at Gwen’s comment.  “Well, I don’t know about me needing him, but the reverse sentiment is definitely true.  I mean, how many times have I saved his life now?”

Gwen laughed heartily.  Her voice was melodious when she laughed, but at present, Arthur thought it took on a slightly mocking tone.

How could she laugh and appear completely unaffected by all that has transpired between them?  Was she so keen to forget their history?  Arthur certainly could not and it amazed him how easily she wore this mask of ignorance.

“Oh, Merlin,” Gwen practically sang as she let her hand rest on his arm, “I think you and I are two of the only people willing to put Arthur in his place.  Imagine where his pride might have taken him had we not been around to better instruct him.”

The young Prince shook his head while angrily clenching his fists.  “And I suppose you know all about what it’s like to lead a kingdom, even though you’ve had the responsibility for two years whereas I’ve dealt with it my entire life.”

“Whoa.  Calm down, Arthur.  I’m sure she meant no disrespect.”

It was true.  Gwen was only trying to joke around with him and ease the tension of her being there.  She already felt like a burden to him, so if she had to be there she could at least be civil and remind him of a simpler time.  “If I have offended your highness, it was not my intention.”

Arthur locked eyes with the woman beside him.  A great, unexpected force from within him pulled the next words out of his mouth, before he had a chance to consider the repercussions.  “Of course it was.  Don’t stand there and lie to me.  Your offenses have been ever present since the day you decided to abandon Camelot!  Merlin, my goblet is dry!”  He shoved the cup in the boy’s face.

“Arthur, please do not raise your voice at me,” Gwen said calmly, “or Merlin, for that matter.  If you have something to say to me, perhaps we should retreat to a less public setting.  In fact, there is a matter of great importance that I would like to discuss with you if—”

“Oh, yes, I’m sure it’s very important,” he interrupted, slurring his words more prominently than before.  “However, I’m simply too busy to socialize with servants at present.  If you want something, feel free to discuss it with Merlin and he will do his best to relay the message at my earliest convenience.”

Merlin almost dropped his pitcher as his hand flew to his gaping mouth.  Gwen was hurt and confused and ashamed of the man she had once loved, but with a practiced art, she hid all of these emotions.  Arthur had never treated her this way even when she was still a servant of Camelot, and knew there must have been an underlying meaning here.  But now was not the time or place to discover it.  “Well,” Gwen finally hissed, pushing the anger down into her abdomen, “obviously you’re drunk, but that does not excuse your behavior.  When you’ve decided you no longer wish to be a conceited prat, you may come and find me.  I will be expecting your formal apology.

She abruptly turned on her heels and marched toward King Uther, thanking him for his hospitality once more and providing her wish to retire for the evening.  Prince Elyan and Sir Lancelot followed Gwen’s example, which did not calm Arthur’s nerves or bring him to reason.


End file.
